Thought of the day:
Me: Would it be weird if I put a wall-size picture of Simon Baker over there?
Husband: *no reply, leaves the room abruptly.*

A/N: Didn't really mean to get too wound up in the murder case, but it just happened. Hopefully everything is kind of making sense! I'll have a read over and an edit at some point to double check, seeing as I didn't exactly plan for this.

Honestly, the first draft I did of this story was about 5000 words long, then I started adding things in between and it got out of control.

Who knows what will happen next, certainly not me! (The Mentalist theme song was totally playing in my head as I wrote that).


"So are you going to see Karen again?" I ask as we drive.

"I haven't decided."

"She seems nice," I reply, glancing over to see if I can catch his expression.

"She is. Pull over up there."

Jane takes me to a large wooden house that is built next to the high school that Helen Redmond attends. James Redmond used to tutor some of the kids there in his spare time.

"The principal is having a memorial tonight. We're going to be Mr. and Mrs. Beckett, parents of an imaginary child."

"What the hell, Jane. This dress isn't appropriate for a memorial," I say, feeling even more self conscious.

"Perhaps not, but it's certainly appropriate for getting sleazy old principal Gareth to open up to you."

"Sleazy? How do you know he's sleazy?" I ask him.

"I'd call someone who has photographs of his students in the changing room pretty sleazy, wouldn't you?"

"What? How do you know he has photos?"

He shrugs. "Broke into his office a few days ago. Very poor security around here, they should do something about that."

We go inside. It is clearly the principal's house, he has his certificates displayed above the fireplace, and pictures of family scattered around the room.

There is no one here that could recognize me. I don't know why I was worried, Jane always knows how to plan these things, even if they don't always turn out the way he expects.

"What are we looking for?" I ask him.

"I have a feeling that someone here is going to meet Helen Redmond at the school a bit later on, I'm just not sure who it is yet."

"But you want me to talk to Gareth?"

"Oh not right now, let's just have a look around," he says, offering his hooked arm to me. "Come on, wifey."

I punch him, shooting him a sour look, then link my arm through his.


"Why did we even have to go undercover for this anyway?" I ask him.

"People are much more likely to open up to us if we don't seem like we're accusing them of anything. Besides, we don't want to scare away whoever is going to meet Helen."

We join a group of parents in the kitchen. They are reading the notes that some teenagers have written and pinned to a memorial board. They glance at us suspiciously, but Jane smiles disarmingly at them and they seem to relax.

"Did James tutor your kid too?" one of the ladies asks us.

Jane smiles down at me, then looks back at her. "Yes, our son."

Jane is good at playing family, at playing husband. I wonder if he has a whole backstory in his head, or if he is just making this up as he goes.

"Does your son go to Harbor Heights too?" another woman asks us.

Jane nods in reply then begins to ask them questions about James. I watch him as he talks. Every now and then he looks at me with a warm smile, and he refers to me as his wife. Just acting. I realize that this might be hard for him. I know he likes playing around and pretending to be someone else, but does it remind him of his real family?

"All right, we better go mingle. Come on, honey," Jane says finally, slinging an arm around my waist.


Jane sends me to talk to the principal while he looks around. I struggle to keep my temper as I talk to Ted Gareth. He barely looks up from my breasts when he speaks, and he tries to touch me so many times that I lose count.

I look around for Jane and finally spot him. He gives me a bit of a cringe and beckons me over.

"I'm sorry, Ted, I better find my husband," I say, and thankfully leave him.

"Anything?" Jane asks me.

"He's disgusting, but he didn't have a lot to say about James."

"Anything about Helen, though?"

"Not really, he just said that they were both good kids. Why, do you think he's the one meeting Helen tonight?"

He considers me, and I wonder if he is thinking about withholding his theories, but he finally replies- "yes. I'm pretty sure it's him. But we'll have to wait and see. Should we dance?"

He gestures to the centre of the living room where are bunch of teenagers are dancing.

"No, you've filled your quota of dances with me. You'll have to earn the next one," I tell him.

He laughs. "I see. Well, you should stay here, mingle. See what you can find out about those two," he says, pointing out two of James Redmond's classmates that Rigsby interviewed a few days ago.

"Where are you going?" I ask him.

"I won't be long, just stay here."

"Fine."

He leaves me, and I awkwardly wander around the room, trying to keep an eye on Gareth at the same time. It becomes apparent after a while that Jane isn't coming back anytime soon. I walk out to the car but I don't see him anywhere. I turn to go back inside, but spot him out of the corner of my eye ducking in the side door of the school.

"Damn it, Jane," I mutter to myself, and walk after him, sticking to the shadows.


I walk down the school hallway with my hand resting on my gun, my back against the lockers. A door swings open and an arm appears, wrenching me inside. I start to protest but Jane holds a finger to my lips. I hear footsteps coming closer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispers when the footsteps fade away.

"I came here to do my job, Jane. Gareth is still in there, what's going on?"

He sighs. "I was just finding a good spot to watch for them."

I look around me. We are in a closet, barely big enough for both of us. I suddenly realize that I am pressed up against him.

Jane looks at me thoughtfully. "Okay, I guess you can help. But we have to stay here for a while and it's a bit tight, so have a mint."

He wriggles against me, then produces a mint from his pocket. I am horrified, what the hell did I have for lunch?

He laughs under his breath. "Just kidding, your breath is fine. But I had an onion bagel earlier."

He pops the mint in his mouth.

"How long do we have to stay here?" I ask him.

"Until the second person arrives." he replies. "And don't ask me when that will be, I'm not a psychic."

We stand there for what seems like forever. I can tell he is looking at me so I stare up at the roof, at the crumbling light fitting, the wilting spider webs. Anything to avoid looking him in the eye.

"Hey," he says, moving his hand to my upper arm. "I'm sorry. I know I've been a bit difficult."

I relent, and meet his eye. "Ha, a bit?"

"Okay, very difficult. I'm sorry."

He smiles at me and I manage a weak smile back.

"Why?" I ask. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just questioning things. Wondering if I should have come back."

I pause, searching his eyes, then finally say- "well, I'm glad you did."

His hand moves up to my shoulder, his thumb grazes my neck. I shiver a little.

"Cold?" he asks.

"No," I reply. He smiles knowingly at me and I glare back at him, mentally punching myself. "Well, maybe a little."

Good cover up, idiot, I think to myself.

His expression turns serious and I am painfully aware that we are inches apart. He takes his hand from my shoulder, but does not move his eyes from mine. His lips are parted slightly. "Lisbon, I want you to know-"

The second set of footsteps comes just in time. Jane starts. When we hear them beginning to trail away, he opens the closet door and motions for me to follow.

"When we get to the classroom, stay outside. Let me talk to them alone for a while," he says.

We hear voices coming from a closed door, and we pause outside.

"Helen Redmond?" I mouth to him. He nods.

He opens the door and walks in, leaving me in the corridor. I wait outside, listening to them, listening for any sign that Jane is in trouble.

"What are you doing here?" A male voice says from inside.

"Now, now, Gareth. I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to talk about these," Jane says.

I hear a loud gasp. "Where did you get those?" Gareth asks. The photos perhaps?

"I just printed them off James's computer. That's where you found them, isn't it Helen?"

I can't hear her reply. I take a peek through the blinds of the classroom window and see Gareth slumped, defeated.

"What are you going to do?" he asks.

"I've just come to stop Helen doing something stupid. Because she thinks you killed her brother, don't you Helen?"

Helen nods.

"Well, he's a disgusting old perve, but I don't think he actually did it. I do, however, think that he might know some things that can help us."

Jane looks at the window that I am peering through. "You can come in, Lisbon. I'm sure there's something you can arrest this man for."


"James was helping principal Gareth sell the photos online," Jane explains. "Apparently he was just trying to make some money, but when he tried to break up the deal, Gareth panicked and tried to blackmail him with pictures of his own sister."

"Yuck."

"You got that right. While you were distracting him I had a look in his bedroom, there are more photos in a shoe box under the bed. Very unoriginal hiding place."

We have called Cho to come pick up Gareth for booking, and we have let Helen go home for now.

"But we still don't know who killed him?"

"No, I suppose we don't."

Is he telling the truth? I sometimes get the feeling that he solves each case just moments after seeing the body, then he leads us around in circles for his own entertainment.

"What you said before, you were right. You've been pretty difficult," I say as we walk back to the car.

"I know," he says.

"Well things have to be different now, this is getting ridiculous," I tell him.

"Don't you worry, Lisbon. I'm a changed man," he says, his lips twitching a little in mirth.

"Oh yes, and what specifically has changed?"

"Well to start with," he says, walking towards the exit, "I have a girlfriend now. I have to be responsible, really step up, you know?"

I chase after him, then match my step to his. "Really? A girlfriend?"

He chuckles. "No, no girlfriend yet. You and I would have to get a divorce first. Let's go, Mrs. Beckett."

He puts his arm around my waist but removes it after a brief second. In that brief second, I wonder what it would be like to be Patrick Jane's girlfriend.


We drive back to headquarters in near silence. When we arrive, Jane takes a cushion from the corner of the room and puts it on his couch. I guess he's sleeping there again.

I put my bag down at my desk and pull out my neglected files, placing them on top of my keyboard so that I remember to sort them out first thing in the morning.

"I was just a bit messed up, but I'm fine now," he says. I look over at him, grateful for this rare display of honesty.

"I hope so."

"I am. I was wondering what I was doing here, if it was all worth it," he says, then he holds his hand up to stop me when I open my mouth to speak. "I know, I know. This is important to you. Your job is important to you." He shrugs. "But for me it's something else."

"What sort of something else?" I ask.

He gives me a half smile. "I don't know. A distraction, I guess."

"And does it... distract you?" I ask him.

He looks down at me, and I wonder if he is letting me see his hurt, or if it has just slipped through.

He doesn't say anything for a while, but then he breathes out deeply. "Sometimes."

I pick my bag up from the desk. "I'm going home."

"Okay," he replies. He turns his back to me and stares through the window above his couch.

"You can talk to me, you know," I say.

"I know, I just did, didn't I?"

"Well, okay. But if there's anything else then let me know. These games that you play aren't going to be fun forever. Not even for you."

When he turns back to me his face is open, not a hint of the usual theatrics. He considers me for a while and I have to will myself to break eye contact.

"We put away bad people, Lisbon," he says to me. "That should be enough, shouldn't it?"

"Enough for what?" I ask.

He shrugs and turns back to the window. "Enough to be happy, fulfilled, I guess." He sighs. "Go home, Teresa. I'm okay."

I start to walk away again, then swear under my breath and stop.

"You're not as much of a loner as you think you are, Patrick," I say. "You wouldn't be here if you were. You wouldn't have-" I pause, not wanting to say the rest. But maybe he needs to hear it, maybe he needs me. "You wouldn't have asked for me to be here, working with you."

He doesn't reply, so I continue walking. Just before the elevator doors close, his hand appears in between them. The doors stop closing, and as they open again, he walks in and stands beside me. I glance at him briefly, then look away.

When the elevator stops at the bottom he presses a button and the doors remain closed. He turns to me. "And you? Are you happy, Lisbon?"

I nod, somewhat stupidly. Am I happy? I'm not sure.

"You never wanted a partner? A family?" He says, his eyes searching my face.

"I suppose I've thought about it, but the job has always come first," I tell him.

He nods at me, then frowns. "Not for me, not anymore," he replies, opening the elevator doors and stepping out. I follow him.

"Will it always come first, Lisbon?" He asks, not turning to look at me, not stopping to hear my reply. It doesn't matter, I'm not sure that I have that answer anyway.