Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Mentalist.

Author's Notes: It's chapter 3. The story of Red Tide. Mostly revolving around Lisbon from Jane's POV. Do enjoy and leave a review! Thank you.

~*~

S01E03: Red Tide

He noticed the change in Lisbon's mood throughout the day. At the start of the day, she was grumpy and half-asleep, seeing as she didn't have any coffee before she left for work. She wasn't smiling when she came in. Not that she had a huge grin plastered on her face every time she came in for work, but there was always a trace of a smile present. To make things worse nobody had programmed for coffee earlier that morning. Lisbon slammed the empty metal pot down, stomped out of the break room and slammed her office door shut. For the sake of the team and himself, he got off his couch and went down to the coffee cart nearby for a cup of strong black coffee. After finishing up three more cups of the coffee, that he went to get over and over again, she was back to normal.

Managing to convince Van Pelt to hide the keys of the SUV for his newest 'trick' was easy to do, because she wanted to prove that he really was psychic. He listened to Lisbon's briefing on the case while moving around with Van Pelt. When Lisbon asked him what he was doing, he told the team that Van Pelt was telling him where she had his the keys and if he found them, he got to drive. Lisbon hated it when he drove, which were rare occasions, simply because he drove too fast for her liking. But seriously, she was the one who drove too slowly for an enforcer of the law. The team watched him as he coaxed the redhead for details. Rigsby looked concerned and curious at what he was up to. Cho was tossing out explanations and excuses on how he would be able to locate the keys. Lisbon just looked amused and bored at his antics. After Van Pelt tried to mislead him to the keys, he walked out of the bullpen and dug them out from the potted plant. Grinning, he shook the keys.

"Who wants shotgun?" He watched as Cho and Rigsby packed up their equipment, Van Pelt joined them, smiling when Rigsby teased her. Lisbon shook her head and frowned.

"Can we go now?" The blonde consultant swung the keys around, pleased with himself. Lisbon grabbed the keys from him and told him that he was joining Rigsby and Cho to check out the crime scene. So much for driving, Rigsby had the keys for the other SUV in his pocket. Maybe he could reach in and lift them, maybe not. Driving was so much more fun with Lisbon around.

He spent slightly more than an hour trying to finish his sandcastle. It had been years since he last built one. His daughter loved the ocean; that was one of the reasons he got the house at Malibu. They would spend hours under the hot blazing sun making a kingdom of sand. Every castle with its own flag and unique design. He returned the bright green bucket to the little girl after he placed the leaf flag on his castle. It stood high and proud, applause sounded all around him. And there he was, the guy who knew Christine Tanner. Walking up to him, the blonde decided that small talk was a good way to get to know the guy, maybe get into his place. Lisbon would find him there. Surely.

If he was really good at one thing, it was playing chess. Having greeted Lisbon, who looked unamused that he was there; and there was Rigsby, who was surprised. He won the chess match. The interrogation was fun, the suspect really fit the profile. Too bad he wasn't the one who killed that 15-year-old girl. Something was off with his boss though, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Maybe he would bother her about it later. Suspect first, bosses later.

The loud commotion caught his attention. Lisbon had raised her voice, which she never did, even at him. Then she talked softly to the victim's father and watched as the broken family walked off. Her expression, however brief, implied that, in a way, she was suffering. He saw the look she gave Van Pelt, one of shock and anger and he knew someone else could give him an answer about what was going on. The redheaded agent was going to tell him everything.

Lisbon and him went off to find the victim's friends who had conveniently left out the fact that there was a party on the night Christine was killed. A quick question revealed all to him. He knew who did I, he just had to convince Lisbon and get some evidence. The visit to the construction site left him holding an ice bag to his nose while Minelli talked to Lisbon. Getting punched in the face wasn't the best idea to get the latest suspect brought in. After all, he won't say a word that could somehow incriminate himself to Cho. They weren't going to get anymore details but his alibi, but that was all Jane needed to put his plan in action.

Once again, he met with the four teenagers. He managed to convince them that hypnosis would help find out who the murderer was. Just as he suspected, one of them tried to be smart and gave up a detail that would confirm his suspicion. These four kids had killed their friend. When they each took turns to spin a new tale the next day, Patrick Jane had tied up the loose ends and they had closed the case. As he walked down the corridor to find the break room, he spotted Lisbon and the victim's father. She was holding out a card, unable to meet his eyes. When the father walked away, only then did she notice that her consultant was watching her. There was no sign of happiness, no smile on her face even if this case was closed. He had to find Van Pelt for some answers. He was really concerned about his boss. After all, no one else could understand her better than him.

Van Pelt had told him everything. About how Lisbon had tripped on the porch after questioning the victim's father. About how she raised the topic of Lisbon's other. About how she felt guilty that she was the one who started the issue of Lisbon's past. Comforting her, the blonde tried to recall what exactly happened to his boss in the past. He remembered Cho saying that Lisbon had younger brothers whom she had looked after since young, he also said something about an accident. Now he remembered. Lisbon had lost her mother to a car accident involving a drunk driver, she would have been around the age of ten then. Maybe that was the reason why she hated speeding. And she was talking to the victim's father before and he had reeked of cheap alcohol. A drunkard, simply put. There was a high chance that her father had become a drunk after her mother died. It was difficult not to. Which meant that Lisbon would be remembering all those times in her empty childhood, this case would have reminded her of that.

Pulling out the bottle of shells he collected from the beach, he walked into her office. He knocked before entering, it was a first. Lisbon looked up from her report, eyes bloodshot and puffy. She had been crying. He would cry if he could, but after all these years of guilt and self-loathing, tears would hardly form. He placed the bottle on her desk and was about to walk out of the office when he remembered something.

"Lisbon? The good memories will come back soon." There was nothing he could do to change her past, but he could put in some happiness in her life now. Cheering he up was a specialty of his.