I have to say, I really didn't expect to get so many reviews for my little drabble. Many thanks for that! Forgive me for not replying to all reviews, but since most of them mainly requested to continue with the story, I think doing just that and adding something is the best reply.

To turn this into a 'real' story, I'll need more words than for the prologue. I hope you don't mind. This chapter is pretty short, future ones will probably be longer.

I might need to change the rating to M for (a) later chapter(s) and there probably will some things happen that some people might not be comfortable with - just a little warning in advance.

Damn.

Lisbon furiously storms into the lobby of a hotel in a small town, a locality she didn't even knew existed until a case brought her here four days ago.

Now she is forced to stay for another night - all because of this stupid sheriff, who wanted her to come by on her way to the airport to discuss her preliminary case report. In her opinion, there was nothing to discuss. She and her team caught a killer, the guy confessed, case closed. Unfortunately, Minelli's point of view differed from hers after the sheriff called him. By the time Sheriff Talbot finally let her go, the plane with the rest of her team almost landed in Sacramento.

She forces herself to calm down before walking over to the reception desk. The elderly gentleman behind it doesn't deserve to bear the brunt of her bad mood. He was nothing but nice to her the last days and can now hopefully check her in at the hotel for another night. He can. At least she doesn't have to look for another place to stay.

Picking up the room key and her bag, Lisbon takes her phone out of her jacket pocket and walks over to a quiet corner of the hall. She already called Minelli to inform him about her extended stay, but she needs to make another phone call. Even though she always feels a little stupid when talking to an answering machine, this time she is relieved when nobody is at home.

"Hey, it's me. Guess what, I'm still stuck here. I know I said I'll be there tonight, but I was held up and missed the plane. We'll just have to reschedule, okay? Don't be mad." She knows that she should probably give the message a more personal touch, but she can't bring herself to do so since she's not really talking to a human being. "Ehm, okay. We'll talk later. Bye."

Now that this is done, she wants nothing else but to take a shower, order some room service and end the day with watching some mindless stuff on TV. She waits for the elevator, deeply lost in thoughts, when a voice behind her startles her.

"That Sheriff Talbot can be a real pain in the ass, huh?"

A simple question, nothing more, but her heart starts pounding like crazy. It's not the words that throw her off balance, it's the voice. This familiar, teasing tone. No, this can't be. Not here. Her mind is playing tricks on her. She refuses to turn around, tries to find out if she would prefer the voice belonging to someone else or actually to the man she didn't see for almost two years.

"Lisbon?" The voice asks, dripping with amusement.

Lisbon closes her eyes.

She forgot how overwhelming his presence can be. No, not forgot. She pushed this information carefully away to the back of her mind and refused to let it surface again. Not that she was ever completely successful to avoid thinking about him. There were always little, everyday details that triggered a trip down memory lane.

A street artist performing a magic trick.

The empty couch at work.

A suspect refusing to reveal his secrets.

Every shabby motel room serving as her temporary home.

A glimpse of his left-behind shirt in the remotest corner of her wardrobe.

As it became more obvious with each new month that he was gone for good, she learned to let the memories not rule her life.

She gained new experiences of which he was no part of.

She met new people who didn't know anything about her past connection with him.

She moved on and left him far behind her.

She felt stronger and more self-confident about continuing her life without him with each passing day.

She was able to convince herself, that the incident in that motel room so many months ago was only a fling, a weakness on her part, and meant nothing.

She never really understood why he left.

She hoped that he was okay, maybe even happy, wherever he was.

She actually believed she was completely over him.

When she finally turns around and comes face to face with Patrick Jane, a materialized ghost from her past, she doesn't know what to believe anymore.

TBC...