Ronnie leaned over the cracked countertop, waiting impatiently for her coffee maker to stop gurgling into the carafe. She'd awoken only fifteen minutes before and gotten dressed for the gym quickly. Even now she leaned away from the counter to examine herself in the full-length mirror nailed to the pantry door.

Her black and gray camo print leggings showed off the strong muscles of her quads and hamstrings, stopping halfway down her shins and drawing attention to her defined calves. She switched position, examining her shoulders and biceps in her black cap-sleeve t-shirt.

Ronnie Masters had been going to the gym religiously since she was twelve years old. It hadn't been voluntary at first, and she hadn't begun to enjoy it until well after her sixteenth birthday. Her mother had emphasized the importance of strength and power, and had been severely compelling, and thus Ronnie's nigh-obsessive gym habits had begun.

Her stature was by no means of typical feminine physique. Even without flexing, she bore a remarkably muscular frame, with thick arms and legs, a broad back and defined waist. She often earned herself rude, disparaging comments about her figure, looked down upon by beautiful women and scoffed at by men.

She smoothed back her Dutch braids, once more checking her clothes in the mirror. Wardrobe malfunctions had no place in the gym, and yet she could recount numerous times that she'd suffered the consequences of not taking the proper precautions beforehand.

Ronnie tied her flat black high tops and shrugged into her jacket, yanking her backpack out of the chair near the door.

Coffee at last done brewing, the CBI agent poured it into her thermos, tightened the lid, and left her apartment briskly.

California mornings hit like hot breath on the back of her neck, pulling at her hair and leaving her skin damp within seconds. She hated it. She hated California. Everything brown, hot, dusty; stretching on for miles and miles until she felt she'd never escape; she hated it.

Bypassing her motorcycle, Ronnie ducked into her car and immediately cranked the air conditioner. A punk rock song blasted through the speakers, drawing her attention away from the warm, moist smell that had taken over her car's interior since summer had begun.

At eight in the morning, when most people were at work, Sacramento Fitness welcomed her with a dozen empty workout stations. Only five or six people were in the weight room, and none of them paid her any mind.

Ronnie put her things into a locker and put one wireless earbud in, leaving the other in her jacket pocket. When her music sounded in her ears, she headed over to a branch and sat down, examining her numbers on her phone.

Footsteps approached, the familiar black adidas stopping right in front of her.

She glanced up, showing her phone to the newcomer. "I want to go up to 175 on bench press."

Cho read her previous numbers carefully, hands on his hips. He wore a black t-shirt and black joggers, ready to hit chest and triceps with her.

They'd been working out together since a little after she'd been recruited, sharing the same routine split and spotting each other on lifts. Sometimes Rigsby came, but his routines were inconsistent and he rarely went at the same time that they did.

Cho nodded and stepped up to load the bar. "Warm up with 10s?"

When she'd first started working out, her mother had spotted her for the first few weeks. And then, when she felt certain that Ronnie would continue to go and build, she stopped coming. As Ronnie moved up in weights and continued to push herself, no one spotted her.

She'd acquired half a dozen injuries, pushing herself too far, working through the wrong form, or slipping her grip.

Until Cho started spotting her, she hadn't been able to move up very fast, memories of dropping the bar on her chest too many and too painful to count.

THE MENTALIST

The body was found in Northern Capa Country, in the middle of a vineyard.

Lisbon was the first to approach the scene, greeted by the local sheriff, a cowboy-looking guy by the name of McAllister.

Ronnie walked up with Cho, peering down into some kind of shallow pit where the body of a young woman was lying, bound and mouth taped, minimal blood on her skin and clothes. Cho pulled latex gloves over his hands, having left his jacket in the car.

"Boy, am I glad to see you guys. We are sorely ill-prepared for this kind of deal. Quail hunter's dog found her this morning at 5:30. Wasn't meant to be huntin' quail, but he was." The sheriff told Lisbon, standing next to her as she gazed down at the body.

Cho and Lisbon moved down into the pit, kneeling near the young girl. Ronnie stayed back, watching the officers around them shuffle their crime scene equipment.

"Do we know who she is?" Lisbon wondered.

"Nope. Looks familiar, though, so I'm guessing local. People sure look different when they're dead, though, don't they?" McAllister gave a short huff and turned his head to take in Ronnie. He gave her a once over, and then gestured down to the body. "Not a fan of getting' in up to your elbows, huh?"

Ronnie squinted dumbly back at him. "It's a body, sir."

Down below, Cho lifted the girl's shirt a little to observe a laceration before dropping the cloth back over it. "That wound doesn't look fatal."

"There's no ligature marks on the neck, so she wasn't strangled or hung." She gingerly pulled the duct tape off the girl's mouth. "Gums are livid. Eyes are hemorrhaged."

Ronnie edged away just slightly as McAllister shifted his weight in her direction.

"Suffocation." Cho decided, glancing up at his partner.

She drew a notebook from her pocket and marked down his observation, tilting it away as McAllister leaned in to watch her scratchy shorthand.

When he was met with obvious distance, he settled back on his heels and squinted down at Lisbon. "My bet is it's a meth head from the city comin' in off the interstate."

Jane, finally finished musing around and taking in the situation, tucked one hand modestly in his pocket. "No, he's a local. And it was an accident. Her killer didn't intend her to die this way."

Ronnie took another look at the victim, wondering what he'd seen. She was bound and gagged, the abduction had to be intentional, though suffocation did seem to be an improvised method of murder. She didn't totally catch on to his train of thought.

"How so?" Lisbon wondered, getting to her feet.

Jane gestured delicately to the body. "She still has her clothes on. Her abductor was taking her to a location that was quiet and private so he could undress her for a sexual assault. She made too much noise at the wrong moment. He tried to keep her quiet and smothered her by mistake. No good to him now, so then he dumps her in a spot only a local would know."

McAllister looked stunned at the supposition, glancing from Jane back down to the victim. After a few seconds of quiet thought, apparently admitting the likelihood of Jane's assumption, leaned in as though secretively to Ronnie and teased, "Makes you glad you're not the type for these sorts of things, huh?"

Ronnie's eyes rolled to the sky, long-used and long-weary of the disparaging remarks regarding her non-feminine build.

Cho pulled himself out of the pit, standing next to Ronnie, staring at McAllister like he'd asked if Ronnie had committed the murder herself.

Lisbon, in disbelief that men such as McAllister apparently occupied all of law enforcement, rolled her eyes and headed away from the body. "She's all yours. Thanks for waiting."

Cho headed after her, and Jane followed, but only after pinching Ronnie's sleeve and giving it a tug to ensure she didn't add McAllister's body to the pile.

Cho glanced back at Jane, meeting Ronnie's eyes for second before questioning, "Why sexual motive? Could be gangs or drugs."

Ronnie saw McAllister following slowly out of the corner of her eye and sped up to walk in stride with Cho.

"A drug trade smothering? By who—"sesame street" cribs?" Jane jeered, amused.

Unwilling to commit fully to Jane's suspicions, Lisbon looked back with a wry smile. "There's nothing to say it isn't just boyfriend trouble." She reminded patiently.

Jane shrugged, peering around the vineyard. "Could be boyfriend trouble. Doesn't feel like it, though."

THE MENTALIST

After the victim had been identified, Lisbon took the team to inform the family; they'd learned that Melanie, the victim, worked at a local restaurant called Shand Creek. Once arriving there to speak to the owners, Lisbon sent Cho and Ronnie to check Melanie's car, which was still in the parking lot.

"Maybe I'm jumping the gun here," Ronnie hunched over the front seat, flipping up the carpets in the front of the car. "But I kinda like McAllister for it. He's too glib about the whole thing."

In the middle portion of the hatchback, Cho pushed himself up from looking under a seat to meet her gaze. "You wanna accuse the sheriff on the scene, right off the bat?"

She shrugged defensively, digging through the center console and glove compartment. "You saw him. He just rubs me the wrong way."

Cho checked the seams of the head liner all the way down to the floor pan. "Just because he made a jab on you doesn't make him guilty." He straightened and dusted off his pants. "Imagine what that would mean for Rigsby."

Ronnie shot him an unappreciative look. "He practically giggled at the crime scene, Cho."

The detective shrugged, clapping dirt off his hands. "We all get our kicks somehow I guess."

THE MENTALIST

Lisbon and Jane had found the restaurant owners, a smarmy, egotistical, wanna-be power couple, and had gotten a less than airtight account of Melanie's movements on the night of her murder. Ronnie and Cho caught up when Lisbon pulled another waitress, a heavy set young woman named Raquel, into a back room for an interview.

Cho opened the door and let Ronnie in, who immediately shot an amused glance at the tough demeanor of the girl with blue eye shadow.

Raquel eyed her right back, eyes skating over her stocky build. She turned back to Lisbon, finishing her statement: "I don't know why she has a picture of me and her, ma'am. Maybe she has a secret crush on me. I don't know."

Lisbon glanced at Cho and Ronnie but said nothing as they stood against the wall, out of the way. "What's her boyfriend's name?"

The waitress paused, her tone becoming more condescending. "She doesn't have a boyfriend. That's her thing, right? Purity. No boys."

Ronnie claimed no expertise on behavior, be even she could identify the snubbed look on Raquel's face, like she thought Melanie had a superiority complex over her.

"So who was it that she cut out of the picture?" Jane wondered somewhat challengingly.

"I don't know, sir." Raquel returned stubbornly.

"You were there," Lisbon pushed, reminding Raquel what the parameters of her story were.

Raquel shrugged. "It was Christmas. I was high."

Ronnie watched, impressed. She had a feeling Raquel had more to say, but she carried her lie with plenty of confidence. She could very easily convince a lesser agent.

"Raquel, this is a murder investigation. If you protect someone who did this, you'll do time." Lisbon's warning fell on deaf ears.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't help you. I would if I could. Swear to god."

Lisbon signed and got up. "Thank you." She moved toward the door, pausing by Cho.

"Car's clean." He reported, arms crossed over his chest.

The boss nodded, gesturing back to Raquel. "Have a chat with Raquel, why don't you? I'm gonna go check the credit card receipts."

As soon as Lisbon was out of the room, Jane was in front of Cho, hands raised pleadingly. " Give me a minute with her. She's got a super low threshold."

Ronnie snorted, eyes widening in shock at his glee.

Cho remained ever stoic. "No. Nope."

"Would be funny though." Ronnie mumbled under her breath.

Jane snapped his fingers and pointed at her gratefully before returning to Cho. "Just stand in the doorway, pretend you're making a phone call for a moment."

After issuing Ronnie an unappreciative stare, Cho pinned his stare straight ahead. "No. It's illegal and it's unprofessional."

Ronnie nudged Cho in the side, eyebrows raised hopefully. Jane always got results, and most of them were funny. "So we stand in the doorway."

Cho sighed unhappily, but relented. "One minute."

Jane all but cackled, punching Ronnie lightly on the arm gleefully before swinging around to deal with Raquel.

Ronnie followed her partner out, holding the door open with her heel. "Withholding irrelevant information is illegal too, you know." She pointed out carefully.

"Shut up." Cho returned blankly.

THE MENTALIST

The next interview was with a cook named Randall. Jane had found a handwritten note in Melanie's locker and her used it to draw out another suspect. Randall had fallen prey to one of his tricks and passed out in fear on the spot. While Jane swaggered off smugly, Ronnie and Cho were left to haul the unconscious man into an improvised interview room.

When he came to, Cho was sitting across from him, waiting, and Ronnie had taken up her usual position against the wall behind Cho.

Randall already had a sheen of sweat over his skin, partially due to his nervousness and partially due to the ungodly California heat.

"Randall, why did you want to say "sorry" to Melanie?"

The terrified cook's eyes grew impossibly wide. "I didn't kill her."

"I didn't say that you did. I asked why you wanted to say "sorry" to her. Your time card and your boss say you left work ten minutes before Melanie. You waited for her in the parking lot, right? Right? There's no law against waiting for someone. You waited for her." Cho's voice stayed low and calm, almost enticing.

Randall shifted in his seat, on the verge of tears. "I just wanted to speak to her."

"Nothing wrong with that," Cho coaxed. "You wanted to speak to her. Then what happened?"

"I was like, "hey, Melanie, what's up?" and we talked. She didn't leave. She—she was smiling and laughing, so I figured I was doing pretty good. So I made my move, and, um, she wasn't so into it, which was cool, only I know she has this whole virgin thing happening. So I figured that I just have to be more... Goal-oriented." Randall paused as Ronnie scoffed to herself, but carried on at Cho's prompting. "She was pretty upset, so I apologized for any misunderstanding, and I left. I got in my car, and I drove off, and that was it. Only I felt like maybe she would still be mad at me and, like, complain. So when I got in to work this morning, before I knew that she was missing, I wrote "sorry," and I put it in her locker."

Ronnie didn't like him. He didn't have the guts to kill anyone, but she didn't like him. She shook her head in annoyance and left the interview room in search of coffee.

THE MENTALIST

Ronnie arrived at work the next day just as Jane, Lisbon, and Cho were leaving the police station bullpen, standing out in the hallway. Ronnie checked her watch as she approached. She'd been only thirty minutes late, and had no idea what she could have missed.

"That was funny, the way she gave him up so easily like that." Lisbon wheeled on Jane, suspicion in her eyes.

Ronnie stopped short, unwilling to get between them.

Jane just shrugged innocently. "Yeah, it was. But you were right, huh? Secret lover. Guess I was wrong about the whole red hair and duct tape thing."

Ronnie met Cho's eyes, seeing his guilty look. She deflated, shoulders falling. She'd missed the next stage of the Raquel saga. Cho shook his head discreetly at her, advising against piping in just then.

"You hypnotized her, didn't you?" Lisbon accused angrily.

Jane, just missing his escape, turned over his shoulder. "I certainly did not."

Lisbon didn't buy it.

"Okay. No. Yes, I did hypnotize her, but—"

The boss shook her head, patience worn thin. "But nothing. It's unprofessional, and it's illegal."

"That's what I told him." Cho said, shooting Ronnie a sharp look.

She held back, refusing to come within swinging range.

Jane winced. "I was gonna say you had nothing to do with it, but hey..." He turned on his heel and made his escape before Lisbon could chew him out anymore.

Instead, she turned on Cho, slamming her arm into her chest as he tried to follow Jane. He stopped abruptly, yanked around by her grip on his jacket to face her.

Ronnie bristled, moving in instantly to offer interference.

Cho put a hand up out of Lisbon's view, halting Ronnie's movements.

The young woman stopped, eyes darkly leering at Lisbon as she threatened Cho's career and marched away.

When they were alone in the hallway, Ronnie stepped up, falling to a stop in front of him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to let him work his magic."

Cho exhaled deeply, frustrated eyes on the wall behind her head. His hand fell on her shoulder giving a squeeze before pulling her along to walk beside him. "Don't worry about it. She gave us an ID on the boyfriend. That's all that matters."