Free days shouldn't start at 7 AM with a wheezing sound. That was not how Teresa wanted her Sunday morning to go. Rolling out of her bed, her raven hair all tousled up, the CBI agent could only think of the reason behind why she was being punished after barely sleeping the whole week long because of a high-end case.

"Fuck off!" Escaped her mouth as she looked through the peephole and saw a weird phone box that she was sure hadn't been there the day before. Teresa barely had the time to step away from the door and get past her initial shock state when someone started to bang on her door loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. "Calm down! I'm already here!"

Without looking at the table beside her door, she fished her keys from the bowl it had been and fumbled with it for a while then manage to put it in the lock and open the door. Every ounce of sleepy haze slipped away from her mind and not because of the cold breeze coming from the outside and touching her bare legs, but because she was met with the prettiest green-blueish eyes she had ever seen.

The man in front of her was probably a foot taller than her and looked dashing, a giant smile on his beautiful rosy lips that could light up a whole city. His golden curls shone like a Californian summer and his skin was just the right shade of tanned like Apolo himself had come down to Sacramento and kissed him softly. She wouldn't start on the way his chest filled the gray vest he was wearing. It was positively sinful. Not to mention his graffiti suit and light blue shirt with the two buttons open.

"Hey there," The man opened his perfect lips, and oh, Teresa could've kissed them all day long. "I'm The Mentalist and I have no time to explain what is going on, but if you have a computer I need to use it right now or we both are going to die."

Her law enforcement reflexes kicked in that very second, mapping the shortest route to her gun in the glove compartment of her car in the parking lot. "What happened, sir? Do you know who's after you? I'm a CBI senior agent, You're safe."

"CBI? That still exists?" He rose an eyebrow at her, looking genuinely curious, which was funny because the CBI was a solid institution respected all over California.

"Who are you and what are you talking about?" She asked, frowning.

"Wrong question! But shortly," The said mentalist decided he wouldn't stay outside, and without touching her, he walked past Teresa into her condo. She was too shocked to even move. "The cops that are not cops are chasing my signal." He stopped abruptly in the middle of her living room and turned to look at her still froze in place. "You might want to close that door."

"Sir, what is going on here?" Teresa tried to sound comforting, people in danger usually needed that, but he sounded like a mad man and she was beyond confused as to why she left him in instead of kicking his ass out. She blamed his gorgeous face and the fact she hadn't had her coffee.

"I've explained that already, Teresa," The blonde man answered, dropping to her couch with a cheeky grin.

This was beyond acceptable. Who was this man and how did he know her name? He was handsome, but none of that was cutting with her. "How do you know my name and who said you could stay?"

The Mentalist's grin turned into his initial megawatt smile once more and his eyes shone even brighter. "A magician never reveals his tricks. You, humans, are all so curious."

Out of everything Teresa Lisbon hated, not knowing what was going on was by far the worst thing on her list, right next to stupid men who thought she wasn't strong for her size. She was getting ready to tell the man to fuck off and get out of her home, handsome or not when he interrupted her trail of thoughts.

"We could chat more, you have a fascinating mind, but then we would die and I don't think you like to die like that," He made a vague hand gesture in her direction. "Not that I'd mind, you look lovely in your tank-top and undies. Sexy even."

Teresa shot a quick glance at her white spaghetti-strap tank top and her black tanga. It certainly looked good, her toned legs in display and her nipples poking through the thin cloth, but she shouldn't have answered the door like that. She had reacted to the sounds that woke her up and didn't even remember putting on acceptable clothes. With warmth spreading down to her cheeks and making them red, the agent ran upstairs to her bedroom to cover herself and also retrieve her Glock, for she would shoot that lunatic if he tried to rob her. Scratch that, she'd shoot the lunatic and point.

When she came back down dressed more appropriately in dark skinny jeans and a sports bra underneath a burgundy low v neck sweater, the blonde man was sitting at the same spot he had been, but this time his legs were up on her coffee table, he had her laptop on his lap, typing fast with one hand and a mug of Lord only knew what on his other. How was he even on her computer?

"I-I-I is that-."

"Your laptop? Yes. Chicago Bears is not a very smart password and you've been broadcasting your thoughts loud and clear. Humans usually don't do that," He offered with a shrug and the disdain on his face was enough to make her blood boil, for a second she had to stop her hands from reaching the holster in her belt. "No guns needed. I'm on the good side. Most of the time."

He wasn't even making sense.

"Out of all the things I could ask," Teresa walked towards the mentalist, stopping short before standing in front of him, but he didn't look up, eyes still on her laptop and taking a sip of the green liquid she could see now. "The first thing I want to know is: I was gone for three minutes at most. How did you manage to find my laptop, discover my password, and make yourself a cup of... what is it? Tea?"

"Nice question," The mentalist looked up briefly, but he seemed pleasantly surprised by her question before lowering his eyes again. "And the answer to that is simple: I'm the cleverest man who's ever walked on Earth."

"And the humblest too." She mumbled running her hands through her hair and tying it in a loose bun.

That had to be some sort of joke. Mind reading was not real and yet, that weird, alluring man knew exactly where to find her stuff, her name, and- God, She had completely forgotten he knew her name.

"Naw. No need for that. I really am the cleverest man alive, why would I lie about that?" Then he frowned, took another sip of his tea, and with a final tap he looked up and closed her laptop. "We're not dying anymore, but I'm pretty sure they're still coming, so heads up."

"Would you care to explain what the hell is going on before I shoot you?" The man was starting to get under Teresa's skin and it was definitely not a good feeling.

"What you want to know?"

"First of all, who are you?" Teresa asked again sitting on the chair across the couch the mentalist was on.

"Told you, I'm the Mentalist," He stated once more, but this time he was smiling so sweetly at her she had to fight her on facial muscles not to smile back.

"That's not a name."

"Oh, trust me, you wouldn't be able to say my name," The mentalist took his final sip and deposited the mug on her table. "No, don't do that. I'm not diminishing you, you really can't; it's not an English name. You're broadcasting again."

"What do you mean by broadcasting?" She shifted on her seat uncomfortably.

"Oh, good one! From time to time you humans can be splendid. I-."

"You humans?" She toyed with her cross. This one was going straight to the psychiatric wing. "Last time I checked we're all humans."

"Eh," He even seemed disgusted by the very thought. "Typical human mistake."

"Mr.-," Teresa shook her head remembering she still didn't know his name. "Mentalist?! What have you been using? I need to know in case I have to call the paramedics."

"What?! I'm not high! Not sure I can." The mentalist said with a pout, and for a second Teresa almost forgot she was royally pissed off, an urge of erasing that pout with kisses burning in her veins. What was wrong with her? "Ok, here we go. I'm the Mentalist, one of the three Time Lords alive. I'm from Gallifrey, a planet in the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm not crazy, nor human and my-my agent, I know this version of me is really good looking, but can you please stop thinking about kissing me that loud? I wasn't pouting, woman."

"What? I'm not,-!" Teresa was so red now she could almost taste her embarrassment. How was he doing that and what was wrong with him?

The only possible answer to that was that he was incredibly good at reading her. A couple of years ago the FBI had sent a profiler to help with a case and he had found out where she and her team were from in twenty minutes with them. She knew that type of stuff was possible, but why her? The agent could think of no reason as to why someone would go to such lengths to torture her on her free day.

"Oh, Teresa, dear, you really are interesting," He crossed his legs and intertwined his fingers, resting them on his lap. "You caught me; cold reading is indeed a part of what I'm doing here. I'm a great observer and you are relatively easy to pick. Your password was as a give as your name was. Your badge is on the desk by the door and there's a Chicago Bears' pennant on your wall, so you could call it an educated guess. But there's some mind-reading too, I'm afraid. You see, some species are capable of broadcasting their thoughts. Humans, such as yourself, are not one of those, you seem to be one of the very few exceptions. My species is what you'd call mind sensitive, we can sense those broadcasts, almost like mind reading."

Not once in her lifetime Teresa had known shock like that. She was speechless. He had to be sick. "Are you saying, you're reading my mind?"

Suddenly she was on her feet, furious. This was not what she meant when she prayed for something good and unexpected to walk into her life. She meant a new boyfriend or a promotion, not a crazy man claiming he was an alien who was so good at reading people he could pass as a psychic.

"For Rassilon, I can't read your mind!" He stood up too, furrowing his eyebrows at her. "I said almost not that I could. Your mind is not a book I can open and read. Well, actually, I could," Then he shook his head as if he was trying to shake away bad memories. "Trust me, not a good experience. Not the case though. You can't do that on earth. Not at least till the 33rd century. Why would you call 911?"

His head was slightly inclined to the left and the sun coming through the window made him look so innocent and honest, she'd be in danger if she couldn't see right through his act. Someone from the office had sent him there because they remembered it would be her 15th year anniversary with the CBI. Rigsby if she had to bet. He had outdone the stripper.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I SHOOT YOU!" The agent was yelling now and moving around, trying to find where the cameras were hidden. "I don't know how much they paid you for this. But this is not funny. I had a tough week and it's not even 8 in the morning.

"Stop!" Teresa felt a hand on her shoulder and didn't even think before reacting, elbowing his ribs precisely and using the moment he stepped away in pain to turn around and punch him on the nose.

It almost made her feel bad, seeing him stumbling and falling. Almost. As he looked at her in horror, her gun drawn and pointed at him, Teresa was glad she could pay him back for waking her up that early with the entire alien act.

"Don't shoot!" His voice was muffled by his hand covering his nose and mouth. That must have hurt, she thought pleased with herself. "Please don't. There's a way to prove everything I said. Just touch my chest. Both sides."

"And risk not having you at my gunpoint? I don't think so," Teresa answered through gritted teeth.

"Look, I wouldn't even know what to do with a gun, they're not my thing," The mentalist retrieved one of his hands from his nose and raised it in a rendition gesture. "Please, I know you don't know me, but I know you're a good person, Teresa. Trust me with this. If I'm lying you'll see I'm human and you can punch my throat and hurt me some more. I'll go to the psychiatric wing. Hell, I'll even call 911 myself."

Well, she could draw this, or she could end his bullshit quick. Rigsby, Cho and Grace were probably waiting outside the door to barge in as soon as the hidden camera on him caught her finally giving in.

After putting her gun back in the holster, she extended her hands to touch both sides of his chest. He was warm and solid through his soft clothes and he made no movement to lean away from her touch or to threaten her. So she waited for the initial heartbeat and…

No… that couldn't be possible.

Were those-? Were those really two separate heartbeats?