On to some fun at the fair...?!


"Anyone else hungry? I have to feed this one," he pointed at Lisbon and grinned, "or she'll get very grumpy," Jane announced pretending nothing had happened.

The others followed his lead and hoped for the best. Ben was especially relieved he hadn't caused too much trouble.

And so they proceeded to eat almost every available junk food offered at the carnival. A lot of the booth owners recognized Patrick immediately and from their reactions Teresa could tell that he was indeed very well liked here. Considering their obvious pleasure at seeing Jane and the fact, that she was also in the company of a member of the circuit and the son of another carnie family she didn't get to pay for any of the food she ate. On the contrary, they were practically force fed everywhere they went.

To her constant irritation however, every other carnie they encountered made a good-natured cop remark in her direction, which caused her lover to cast her one of his annoying 'see, I was right'-looks each time. Obviously, she really couldn't hide the fact even in her leisure wear, just like Jane had predicted. She was glad, she'd followed his advice and wore something, that showed very clearly that she wasn't on duty. He still got a slap on his arm from her for his gloating every time. There was principle involved after all, as she informed him, when he complained about it.

After eating more than their fill, they paid a visit to Andy's parents. There wasn't that much activity going on at the shooting gallery at that moment, so the owners had some time to great both their daughter-in-law, their son, and his best friend. Especially Andy's mother seemed ecstatic to see Patrick and hugged him warmly.

"It's so good to see you, son. Are you doing alright? Andy's told us a bit about what you're up to these days," she said warmly.

Andy's father was a bit more laid back, but his greeting was friendly as well. "Ah, Rick my boy. How's your shooting these days? Wanna give it a try? Your lady friend can't though. Professionals are not allowed. Wouldn't be fair, would it? Come on, I'll even give you the gun with the straight barrel."

"I don't know, Charles. It's been more than two decades. I'll probably shoot you," Patrick answered.

To say that Teresa was surprised about the way he had reacted, would be an understatement.

"Come on, Ricky. Shoot a red rose for your lovely lady. Or even better: I've seen her eyeing the plush elephant over there. Three shots, three bull's eyes on the moving targets and it's yours," Andy's father baited him.

"Jeez, man! You have a lot of faith in me. I might manage a rose, but the rest…" Jane replied.

"You have the best hand-eye-coordination I've ever seen, son. You don't unlearn something like that. Don't be a chicken, Jane. Show your lady what you're made of," Charles went on.

Patrick snickered. "She's a cop, Charles. You don't believe for a sec that I can impress her with some shooting."

"Well, actually, you could, Jane. I had the impression that you HATE weapons. I'm a tad confused here," Teresa chipped in after she'd managed to close her mouth again.

"Ah, but these are no real weapons. If you hit a person with a shot, it'll probably hurt like hell for a while, but you couldn't possibly kill someone in the process. So, essentially harmless," Patrick explained.

"Well, this I HAVE to see. Come on, Patrick. I want to see you handle a gun. And I'll even take some pictures of it. The rest of the team won't believe me otherwise," Teresa exclaimed happily. "I bet you won't score a single hit," she added with glee.

"You're on, Lisbon. What's the wager?" Patrick asked.

"Loser cooks dinner tonight," Teresa suggested.

"Oh come on. You can do better than that. This way I'll lose in any event. Either I'll have to cook or I'll have to eat your cooking," he teased and earned himself a punch on the arm.

"I know how to cook, mister, thank you very much. But okay. Should I by some miracle lose, you get to drive us home," she proposed convinced of her victory. "And to make sure there are no loopholes: you have to hit the bull's eye at least once."

"Alright, Charles. Hand me the good gun," Patrick demanded.

"Yes, my boy. Show her what a real carnie's made of," Andy's father cheered. His son laughed out loud and Ben grinned as well. "Sorry, Teresa, but you just dug your own grave," Andy snickered.

"Hah! I've actually seen him use a gun once. He hardly knew the front from the rear," she chuckled fondly.

"Still saved your life, Teresa. You shouldn't forget that little detail, my dear," Patrick countered with a devilish grin.

"They're bickering like an old married couple. Isn't it just too cute?" Sheila chipped in. This earned her a death glare from both Jane and Lisbon.

Charles handed Patrick a gun he'd retrieved from somewhere inside the gallery. "Well, give it your best shot, Ricky," he punned.

"Just a minute. I have to get the camera on my cell phone ready. Your complete disgrace has to be saved for posterity," Teresa said tauntingly.

A moment later she was ready to film but blanched. Her goofy consultant, who got incredibly nervous whenever a firearm was close by, stood in front of the moving targets in a perfectly executed stance for shooting. He held the gun confidently and completely steady, took aim and fired the first shot without batting an eyelash. A garish sound announced that he had indeed hit home. He reloaded the gun, aimed a second time and with the precision of a Swiss-made clockwork scored the second hit. Repeating the process, he got ready for the final shot. His third bull's eye was accompanied by an even shriller sound effect and a red blinking light.

Charles switched off the sound and light and patted Patrick's shoulder afterwards. "Told you, you don't unlearn something like that. Though the second one was a close thing. Congratulations anyway, the elephant is yours, son." Leaning a bit closer, he whispered, "Though I'm afraid, we broke that lady friend of yours."


Patrick handed the gun back and turned his head in Teresa's direction. He guffawed when he saw the expression on her face. She was shell shocked. There was no other way to describe it.

He went over to her and handed her the plush elephant with an elegant bow. "Here, milady. For you. Or would you have preferred a plastic rose, my dear?" he asked nonchalantly.

This led to everyone breaking out into hysterics. She didn't accept the gift.

"You bastard," she exclaimed really miffed. "You do know how to handle a weapon. You played us all for suckers. I don't believe it! And here I thought it was a miracle you actually managed to shoot Hardy and not me. You just pretended. How could you fool me like that, Jane?"

"Ah, come on Lisbon. Don't be a sore loser. You only saw what you wanted to see. I told you, you should consider that I actually saved your life. And for the record: I still hate weapons. That's not a lie. With Hardy it was the first time I touched a real gun, I swear. And I didn't like it one bit." As an afterthought he inquired cautiously. "You aren't really angry, are you?"

He looked at her with his best puppy dog eyes and she couldn't even pretend to stay mad at him any longer. "I'm not sure, Jane. Maybe," she answered teasingly. But when he started to pout as well, she had to smile. "You're such a child, Patrick. Okay, you are forgiven. But just because I filmed the whole thing and I'm sure I can pull one over the rest of the team with it," she added whimsically. "Now, give me that elephant, Jane. It's mine after all."

He pecked her on the lips and handed her the plush toy a second time. "Patrick Jane, the sniper, I still don't believe it," she murmured. He grabbed her hand, the one that wasn't occupied holding the elephant, and intertwined their fingers.

"I did tell you that my best friend's parents had a shooting gallery. Did you really expect, I'd never given it a shot – sorry for the pun. That was a bit naive, Teresa, you have to admit that," he teased her.

"You are a mean little cheat. That's the main reason I should have been suspicious. I should actually always be suspicious when it comes to you," she bantered back.

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered warmly, "As long as you never doubt that I love you."

She pulled their entwined hands up to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand.

"You are really cute together," Andy piped up. "I saw the potential but the reality is much more entertaining, I must say."

All the others signaled their approval to the statement with a nod and grins.

Ben went over to Lisbon's side and whispered with a smirk, "Honestly, Teresa. How long have you known him? I told you, you should never challenge him and most certainly never make a bet with him. He wouldn't have taken you on if he wasn't sure of his victory. You should have known better, really."

"Don't pester my young lady, Ben. I happen to enjoy making bets with her," Patrick barged in with an evil grin, having overheard his friend's words.

"No, Ben is right, Jane. Usually I do know better than to accept a bet from you. I always scold Rigs and Grace when they are gullible enough to. So shame on me," Teresa said self-mockingly.

They made their farewells with Andy's parents. Lisbon savored the sensation of Patrick's hand around hers and marveled at the fact that she didn't mind expressing her feelings for the man in front of his friends. Somehow it seemed totally natural to her. She was usually very restrained when it came to public displays of any kind, but she had no problem with it now. On the contrary, she enjoyed his closeness and his affections a lot. Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad and awkward to confess their changed status to the team. She decided she had to think on the subject more in the near future.


They moved along from the shooting gallery to other attractions. Though it was mostly the women who actively participated in the games, everyone had a lot of fun. A lot of the booth owners wouldn't let the men even try once, the recurring argument being that they knew the games in and out anyway.

Suddenly they heard a voice calling from behind them. "Paddy, is that you?"

Patrick stiffened nearly imperceptibly and strengthened his hold on Teresa's hand. He continued to walk and the others followed his lead.

Running feet could be heard behind them. "Hey, stop. Come on. I know, it's you, Paddy. I heard people talking about you being here."

A hand took hold of Patrick's left shoulder to slow him down. "Come on, you can't ignore your own father, Pat," the other man insisted.

"Don't touch me," Patrick spat, still with his back turned to the pursuer. "Leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you." His voice was ice cold.

"Pat, don't you dare talk to me like that. I'm still your father. At least face me like a man and not like the wuss we all know you are," Alex Jane challenged his son.

Patrick shrugged off the offending hand and continued to walk away. But his father wasn't ready to give up. This time he grabbed his son's shoulder hard and turned him around with force, separating him from Lisbon.

The others didn't really know how to react. They wanted to protect their friend but felt they had to let Patrick run the show as long as possible. At the moment he seemed to be holding his own just fine. But Teresa steeled herself to react at once, should the need arise. She stood two steps behind her lover and examined the older Jane with a critical gaze.

Patrick had obviously mostly taken after his mother in the looks department, though he shared his eyes with his father, both in shape and color. She could still guess that the other man must have possessed a certain charm in his younger years, but his unhealthy life style had taken its toll on him and let him appear like a rather nasty bit of work. The cruelness in his eyes – which was fortunately absent from his son's - did the rest. Apart from that, the man seemed downright scruffy, unwashed, and unshaved.

The consultant took in the sight of his father as well. The man looked shabby, smelled of stale alcohol, and seemed to have diminished. All in all, the person in front of him wasn't the least bit scary. He looked and smelled like a homeless beggar.

"What do you want from me, Mr. Jane?" Patrick asked, disgust obvious in his voice.

"What, you too good now to greet your own father decently?" Jane senior taunted him.

"I don't have a father," Jane junior answered with the coldest voice anyone had ever heard from him.

"Hah, I made you who you are. Taught you everything, Paddy. And that's my thanks? An arrogant copper who denies his own father?" He spat on the ground at his son's feet. "You're a shame to the name of Jane, boy. You were a disappointment right from the start. Guess I should at least teach you some respect now," Alex proclaimed.

Patrick only laughed at him snidely. "I would love to see you try, old man. You are nothing but a drunk. Do you really think you'd stand a chance against me? Preposterous."

"At least I didn't kill my wife," Alex scoffed.

"Ah yes. That's true. You never married my mother," Patrick replied coldly.

To any normal bystander it would have looked like the CBI consultant was completely composed, but Teresa knew him well. She could see that he was barely holding it together and she was immensely proud of him for it. He managed to act like the epitome of restraint and control and she prayed with all her might that Alex Jane bought his act.

Obviously he did because his demeanor changed drastically at once. "Come on, Paddy. You can take a joke, can't you? I was just kidding. Why don't you introduce me to your acquaintances?" he almost truckled to his son.

"What do you want from me?" Patrick asked again, voice devoid of any emotion.

"I did teach you well after all. Look at you, all composed. Nice suit, too," he schmoozed his son. "I might be in a spot of trouble. Nothing serious. Just a streak of bad luck at the poker table. I owe a guy a bit of money. What do you say, Paddy? You can afford to give your old dad ten grand, can't you? For old times' sake? You owe me after all."

Patrick sent him a look full of loathing. "You've got to be kidding me. I don't owe you a thing. And I sure as hell won't pay for your booze and gambling ever again. I have nothing more to say to you. Leave me alone."

Alex cast his son a spiteful glance. "Bet that cop lady doesn't know about half the felonies you've committed over the years. You would be out of her good graces at once, Pat. But she doesn't need to find out of course…"

Patrick answered him with a sneer. "Oh, are we already down to blackmail now?" And with his face turned into a stony mask he added with total indifference. "You know what, Alex Jane? You sound like a useless loser. Gamblers and drunks are marks. Nothing but marks. I don't have any business with marks. If you would excuse us, we have better things to do than to stand here with a pathetic loser like you. Go bug someone else. I'm finished with you."

His tone had caused goosebumps to appear on everybody. He had sounded so cold and derisive Teresa decided then and there that she never wanted to hear that specific voice ever again. It had scared the hell out of her.

He turned around towards his companions and they could all see that he wasn't even half as collected as he had appeared to be in front of his father, who still stood there, first shocked into silence and then spouting off threats and expletives. When no one paid attention, he finally turned and left.


TBC

I hope, you're all still enjoying this fic. If you do, please let me know. If you don't, I'd also like to know the reasons why. With other words: Reviews are very welcome.