#grace van pelt deserved better

[enbyjane]

I just want to talk about Grace.

Found this thing I said a while ago to a friend within the fandom, and I've been thinking about Grace for a while in these past few days

I feel like Grace got the short stick in terms of characterization, out of everyone from the show.

Regardless of how much everyone agrees that Grace is such a badass and awesome character, very kind and considerate and ambitious and so many more traits...She does not have a lot of depth as a character.

I'm sorry to all Grace's fans, I know it sounds pretty harsh. But at least that's my impression.

I don't even really know how to elaborate. But I'll try.

I don't mean that Grace is shallow or empty. She really has such fantastic lines, particularly within the first seasons. I mean that Grace is never really allowed to step past the "romance girl" role in the show.

I think it is a known thing within the fandom that Heller hasn't intended to make Jane and Lisbon a couple from the beginning. But he knew that romance drama sells. And it's quite clear from episode 1 that Grace and Wayne are planned to be a couple.

That's their role, to provide romance drama.

The thing is, Wayne also provides the comedic effect, usually paired with Cho, but by himself as well. (I'm not gonna say he's the clown because that's rude but you know what I mean)

Grace however? Has no further role. And it becomes further obvious when she and Rigsby break up. Her reason for breaking up is that she does value her job more than Rigsby (at least at that point) and she doesn't want him to end up resenting her for making him move away. She is also very adamant to join in on field missions and interrogating suspects and whatnot. You could glean from this that she is ambitious and cares about her career, right? Right.

Well, this never goes anywhere. Soon enough she meets some other guy whom she dates briefly (and who tries to murder Jane, but that's nothing new) and there's more Rigsby pining and Rigspelt drama. And then she meets Craig, with whom she has a serious relationship and almost marries (and who again is a homicidal guy helping a maniac. I think they made her only date homicidal maniacs just to show Rigsby in a fantastic light compared to them). The only time we actually see her do something for her career - which she shows that she cares about - is when she goes to that Hacking Program School Thingy or whatever it was and she returns with? *Drumrolls* A boyfriend!! (Who really is just a foil for more Rigsby pining I can't even remember his name)

Sure she is a great hacker and she is good with computers but this is never really explored.

And talking about things being explored...

Look at this!! "Deep trauma in your past that you haven't spoken of to anyone, not even yourself..." And well she continues not speaking of to anyone, not even herself!! This is never mentioned again!

Sure, sure, you can imply that it's the possible suicide of someone in the family that is the deep trauma. But the truth is that we don't know. We simply don't know.

The only things we see her truly grapple with is the PTSD from Craig's betrayal. And that's not a bad thing, nor a bad story, except that it doesn't really get anywhere in the end. It affects her on the moment. We don't really see which conclusions she's made from that situation. Although, perhaps, we can deduce that she is less trusting of people than she used to be.

The saddest thing is that we did have something that the writers could've used. They never did. They never really went anywhere with Vizualize either - there was a short moment when you were wondering if Grace was going to fall in the Vizualize trap, but, like most of her history, that was cut before it was really started. (I'm not saying that I wanted her to fall into the cult necessarily, but it would have been interesting to be explored more in depth)

I don't really have a conclusion here. Just that she deserved better. We never really see the conclusion of her PTSD with Craig either, apart from asking Jane what to do with her necklace. (and then keeping it, if I remember right). I would've liked to see her more mistrustful, or more conversations about that, or at least go to therapy to deal with that, if they wanted to get rid of the plotline. (though again, she's a wonderful character that deserved more)

[musicgoon]

Book Review: Redemptive Reversals and the Ironic Overturning of Human Wisdom

Did you ever notice that the Bible is full of ironic situations? Authored by G. K. Beale, this was my first introduction to the Short Studies in Biblical Theology series edited by Dane C. Ortlund and Miles V. Van Pelt. The aim of the series is to connect the resurgence of biblical theology at the academic level with everyday believers.

In all honesty, Andrew A. White’s forward to this book, “A Most Unlikely Revival,” is a story worth a stand-alone reading. He witnessed a Khmer Rouge revival in a refugee camp at the Thailand/Cambodia border in 1980. He tells a true-life tale of how God uses weakness to produce strength. 

The introduction to the book defines irony as “the saying of something or the doing of something that implies its opposite.” This book is all about how God deals with humans primarily ironic ways. We are introduced to the concepts of retributive irony (where God punishes people by the very means of their own sin) and redemptive irony (where the faithful appear to be cursed but are really in the midst of being blessed). He also shows us the literary types of irony, including verbal irony, dramatic irony, and character irony.

Human Wisdom

Chapter 1 shows us how God Judges People by Their Own Sin. Using the story of Esther as a case study, we are shown how Mordecai and Haman are prime examples of ironic reversal. The great King David is not left untouched, and Beale, with care, shows us the tragic ironies in David’s life including Uriah, Amnon, Absalom, and Bathsheba, and Nathan.

Beale keeps things practical by showing us how Christians who choose to emphasize external realities when choosing a spouse, are doing the very thing that curses them later. In an enlightening aside, we are shown how pagan practices of the Egyptian Pharoah’s served as a type of “hardening of the heart.” It is too awesome to not see it as fitting the divine irony of God hardening Pharaoh’s heart. We are also shown how the Psalms and Proverbs support this theory.

More ironies are introduced, as Beale tells how churches that are meant to be where God’s Word is heard are actually where God is silenced. And when we are caught in the ironic web of subtle sin, Beale offers us hope by trusting in the irony of salvation. Read the word, apply it by faith, come to God in prayer daily confessing and repenting.

Chapter 2 teaches us that People Resemble the Idols They Worship. He takes us to Genesis 1 and 2 to show us that human beings have an intrinsic tendency to reflect the images around them because that is how God made us to be. We are to reflect the image of our Creator. Isaiah 6 is the thesis-supporting text that shows us God’s glorious holiness, man’s guilty sinfulness, and the irony of idols. But Beale does not stay in the Old Testament. He brings us to the apostle Paul who tells us that covetousness and greed are idolatry. He takes us to John who tells us at the end of 1 John to keep ourselves from idols -- anything that is a false view of Christ and a substitute for the true Christ. He attacks our love for media and mindlessness, something I felt stung as I admit I spend much time in the online world.

Beale is pointed to say that the Israelites living at Jesus’ time would be judged because they idolized tradition. He goes after the youth, asking if we try to relate to some group or friends more than how they relate to Christ. For instance, pressures to participate in illegal activity or sexual immorality are addressed. I highly recommend reading Beale’s book We Become What We Worship for further education on this thesis.

Ironic Overturning

Ch. 3 shows how restorative irony begins at the start of the Christian life. Stories of unlikely conversions are shared. Interestingly, we are told that one of the main Biblical words for “conversion” is “repentance.” And even though God commands his people “to return,” he is the one who can reverse our depraved minds to himself. Adam and Eve, Satan, and the fall of man are prime examples. The roles of reversal between the first and last Adam is assessed. Most persuasive is Jesus’ love for the title Son of Man to show the ironic character of his ministry. In regards to lifting up of the serpent, Beale makes this astute interpretation: “We trust in Christ’s curse of death to obtain eternal life in that Christ suffered as a substitute on the cross for sinful man by undergoing the eternal penalty of spiritual death that man deserved.”

Chapter 4 is The Christian Life: Power is Perfected in the Powerless. Beale recounts the story of Joseph and shares the fact that foolishness to the world is actually God’s wisdom. Paul’s thorn in the flesh is illustrated to show how God produces physical or emotional weakness in order that spiritual strength will be produced. Beale offers us “Practical Suggestions for Better Understanding and Responding to Suffering,” which I found very helpful as direct points of application in my life.

Chapter 5 shows us how “Faith in Unseen Realities Contradicts Trust in Superficial Appearances.” The ideas of Inverted realities and ironic phenomena are introduced. The stories of Cain and Abel, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Daniel, and his friends in the fiery furnace, culminate at Hebrews 11. Another practical section titled “Principles for Faithfulness in the Midst of a Faithless World” is extremely helpful. And Beale ends this chapter by championing the ordinary yet the helpful spiritual practice of reading the Bible.

Chapter 6 is about The Irony of Eschatology. Beale shows us how the setting of Christmas was the best of times and the worst of times because the Jews were being oppressed but God was entering the world to overthrow Satan. He carefully connects Psalm 2 and Revelation 2 with the image of a shepherd with an iron staff.

The conclusion asks us to question what ironies are being played out in our own lives. Interestingly, Beale shows us how 666 indicates incompleteness. Each chapter has a generous amount of endnotes to show the academic rigor and thoroughness of the thesis. A general index and Scripture index are included to make this an excellent reference tool.

Redemptive Reversals 

After reading this book, I am impressed with the many Biblical examples of redemptive reversals. I am looking for it more often in my life and in the lives of others to see how God is carefully orchestrating everything for his glory. And I am strengthened to see how God caused the ultimate irony in my life - that a rebellious sinner like me would be saved by His grace.

I was provided a free copy of Redemptive Reversals and the Ironic Overturning of Human Wisdom but was not required to write a positive review. Read more of my book reviews and follow Dive In, Dig Deep on Instagram - my account dedicated to Bibles and books to see the beauty of the Bible and the role of reading in the Christian life.

[bromfieldhall]

What Makes You Beautiful - A Mentalist Fanfiction

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: “Yesterday I made a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to give myself one whole year to woo and win the love of California Bureau of Investigation’s Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon.”

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

CHAPTER 7

"Everyone else in the room can see it, Everyone else but you"

~ What Makes You Beautiful ~ 1D

July 14th – 11.25am

It's a long drive from Sacramento to Malibu.

Especially in my Citroen. It's not built for fast speeds for extended periods of time. I love my car but there are times like these that I wish I had a newer one.

It's been a while since I last made the trip and I'd forgotten just how tedious the journey can be without someone to talk to. When I say someone, I mean Lisbon of course. Who else is there?

She's the reason I'm here. Back at my house. I'm not running away, although I can see how it could look like that. I was just made aware that I still had some demons to put to rest once and for all.

It's been an odd couple of days. I've always prided myself on being able to control my emotions. I'll even go so far as to say that I can discard the fruitless one's at will. The kinds of emotions that don't really help you in any way but merely hinder and drain you. Like jealousy. That's a really pointless emotion. It doesn't get you anywhere and in extreme cases you can even hurt the one you love through your own stupid, childish behaviour.

Like I have.

It all started two days ago when a delicate case involving high profile philanthropist, Abigail Grant, was handed over to us. She's an acquaintance of Bertram's so he wanted it dealt with quickly and quietly.

Quick I can do. Quiet? I'm hardly the poster boy for keeping things low key but if he was willing to take the chance, what the hell.

It was all to do with some priceless jewels that she'd had stolen. I worked it out pretty fast that the perpetrator was likely to be a man called Marcus Greening and the culmination of our investigation is going to happen tomorrow tonight all being well.

During our enquiries, however, a link had been found to Walter Mashburn and naturally we had to follow it up.

I was pleased to see him…at first. It's been a while and if it hadn't been for his interest in Lisbon in the past, I might have been more inclined to pursue a proper friendship.

"Patrick, it's good to see you again," he'd greeted with a smile and an enthusiastic shake of my hand.

"Walter," I'd acknowledged with a nod.

He'd turned his attention to Lisbon and I'd tensed as alarm bells started ringing in my head. His smile had softened slightly and he'd clasped one of her hands in both of his. It was an oddly intimate gesture that I wasn't entirely happy with and although I didn't realise it at the time, the first little insidious seed of jealousy was sown.

"Teresa, how have you been?" he'd asked in a low voice that really, really irritated me.

She's been with me I wanted to tell him. Well, not with me per se, but I'm working on it.

"I've been good, thanks," she'd replied a little stiltedly. She'd given me a glance reminiscent of when she'd had that dream about me then extricated her hand from Walter's no doubt sweaty grasp. "You?"

Obviously that had been an invitation to tell us every little thing that had happened to him in the past few years and he'd taken the seat next to Lisbon, sitting just that little bit closer than necessary.

As I'd listened to him talk, I noticed the way he directed everything to her, his smiles, his explanations. The familiar way he casually touched her arm or leg. It soon became blatantly obvious to me not only that the interest he'd shown in Lisbon the last time we'd crossed paths hadn't really abated, but that they had been intimate in the past too.

Not that Lisbon seemed to reciprocate at all. She was professional as ever. But that didn't stop my jealousy sprouting.

I'm honestly not bothered by any of Lisbon's other former dalliances. She's an adult for heaven's sake, there are going to be men in her past and I'm hardly one to criticise considering my own choice of bed-mate. But knowing she'd been with Walter and watching him turning on the charm right in front of me…just really pissed me off.

Don't get me wrong, I like Walter. He's a great guy. But for a few minutes there, a man I used to consider a friend of sorts was now the competition. And a strong one at that. He is everything Lisbon could want from a man and although it pains me to admit, albeit to myself, he's the kind of man she deserves as well.

All that wealth, good looks, charm and, most importantly, no baggage…he's perfect. Really.

And it suddenly got me wondering what I truly had to offer Lisbon that wasn't in some way detrimental to her life. I came up empty. It was a sobering realisation.

If I'm honest, I gave up the fight there and then before I'd even tried. I'm not proud of myself. Perhaps if I'd been more secure in her feelings for me, I would've felt differently. A few kisses hardly means she's in love with me. I mean look at Walter; she slept with him.

In hindsight, I should've just got up and walked out there and then. But no, not me. Years of putting myself into a situation where I could torture myself about it afterwards was a hard habit to break…and obviously I needed a fix.

Our 'interview' with Walter finally came to and end and we said our goodbyes then headed out to the SUV. I could tell she wasn't quite sure of my mood and to be frank, neither was I. My emotions seemed to be getting a little out of my control by then. I was swinging between feeling resentful of Walter having shared an intimacy with Lisbon that I never have and being angry with myself for not being the kind of man I think she deserves.

Naturally, me being me, I verbally took it all out on Lisbon with snippy little replies and jealous fuelled innuendo's so that by the time we reached the CBI she wasn't talking to me anymore. I regretted it immediately but offered no apology.

Not my finest hour by any means. I'm having a few of those lately.

We spent the rest of the day avoiding each other then this afternoon Walter came by the office to propose a plan. He'd wangled an invite to a party Greening was having and there was a good chance that the gems, amongst other things, would be available to the highest bidder. We were all in the bullpen when Lisbon came out and told us about the party and she'd said that Van Pelt should go along with Walter.

I'm not quite sure whose face was most disappointed. Walter's or Rigsby's. Anyway, I decided to play devil's advocate and suggested she go herself…being the team leader and all. I'd then added that considering their obvious history together, they'd make a more believable couple.

You could've heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

I guess a warped part of me wanted her to deny everything. To prove to me I was wrong about my supposition…but she didn't. She just gave me one of those 'you hurt me but I'm damned if I'll let it show' looks that I'd come to hate so much during the Lorelei days. I felt like such a bastard.

I'd broken eye contact and sipped at my tea, my heart sinking as she announced that she would indeed accompany Walter instead. I didn't look at her again, I couldn't. I'd just sat and feigned interest in my drink until she and Walter went back to her office.

"Public humiliation…that'll win the girl every time," Cho had suddenly said wryly from right by my side.

I'd looked up in at him in surprise. He was sat on the arm of my couch, arms folded, and as I gazed around the rest of the bullpen Rigsby and Grace stared back at me from their desks, sporting faintly accusing expressions. It'd seemed pointless to deny what they'd apparently already guessed.

"I was never under any illusion that my methods were perfect," I'd admitted with a shrug.

"Good. They're not," Cho had concurred brusquely. "You're an idiot."

I very much doubt truer words had ever come out of the stoic Agents' mouth.

"Yeah, what's your problem? You were practically pushing the boss at him," Rigsby had piped up.

"No problem, I just think they make better sense," I'd answered as impassively as I could muster.

"I don't believe you," Grace had countered bluntly with a shake of her head. "That night Rigsby and I had dinner with you two we could see there was more to it than the just you paying out for that flimsy excuse of an auction."

"You all had dinner together?" Cho had asked, somewhat put out. "Without me?"

"It's a long story, Cho. If it makes you feel any better, I'll treat you to dinner next week, OK?" I'd offered hoping to steer the conversation away from Lisbon and my obvious failings.

"OK," he'd answered. "But you're still an idiot. If you're not careful you'll lose her."

With that he'd gone back to his desk and Rigsby and Grace went back to work.

It was nice of them to try and hold an intervention…however poor. Still, although I understand Cho's concerns, I can't actually lose what I've never really had. Can I?

Not long after that, Walter had emerged from Lisbon's office and come back to the bullpen to say goodbye. The team murmured out a few grunts in reply and then he'd stared at me and held up his phone before giving me a quick nod.

I'd watched him go then heard my own phone chirp as a new text came in. I'd checked it out and saw that he wanted to meet up an hour later. My interest had been piqued and so I'd dutifully done as he'd asked and met him at a small coffee shop around the corner from the CBI.

We'd indulged in idle chit-chat while awaiting our drinks but once they'd been brought to our table, he'd got straight to the point.

"How long have you and Teresa been together?" he'd asked curiously.

I have to admit that I was surprised at his astuteness. I could understand the team having an inkling there was something evolving between us…we worked with them every day. But, Walter? Really?

"We're not," I'd refuted lightly. Not officially, anyway. There's still so much left unsaid between us.

"You won't be if you keep pulling stunts like that one today," he'd pointed out blithely. "She was upset."

"Meh, that's standard behaviour for Lisbon. I would've thought, given your past, you would know that," I'd goaded, forcing a small smile.

I knew I'd hurt her, I didn't appreciate the reminder.

Walter had merely chuckled and shaken his head.

"It was one night, Patrick. Teresa wasn't interested in anything more…although I did try," he'd admitted wryly.

"I'll bet that was a blow to your ego," I'd said mildly, secretly pleased that Lisbon had been the one who'd chosen not to continue their acquaintance.

"She is quite a woman," he'd commented a little wistfully.

"Yes, she is," I'd agreed softly, no doubt sporting my own dreamy expression.

His gaze had sharpened on me and he took a sip of his coffee before leaning back in his chair and staring at me in contemplation. I saw his eyes drop down to my left hand then back up to my face.

"I'm glad you got Red John finally," he'd said with a small smile. "How long has it been now?"

"Eleven months," I'd replied automatically, wondering at the sudden change of topic.

He'd nodded and grinned ruefully.

"I bet you can tell me the days, hours and even the minutes too?" he'd ventured quietly.

I'd felt my jaw tighten at the faintly accusing tone I could hear seeping through. I did know as a matter of fact but I wasn't about to tell him that.

He studied my face and let out a heavy sigh.

"I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through, but surely his death has given you some kind of closure? Some peace finally? Enough that you can at least start moving on with your life again, no?"

"I am," I'd said flatly.

He looked pointedly at my hand again then queried dubiously, "Really, Patrick? Because it doesn't look like it from where I'm sat."

"Maybe you'd better view it from some place else then," I'd retorted, my irritation at his comments beginning to show.

"OK, OK, I'll back off," he'd said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I was just trying to offer some friendly advice that's all. I like you and I like Teresa but you two won't get anywhere until you've dealt with your past, Patrick. You're still clinging on…how do you think that makes her feel seeing you still wearing your wedding ring after all this time?"

I hadn't actually given it any thought. I'd clenched my hand and moved it off the table to rest upon my thigh. My wedding band suddenly felt heavy on my finger, the weight of my residual guilt for my family dragging it down. I'd imagined myself to have put everything behind me but in those few moments it became frighteningly clear to me that I hadn't. At all. They were simply on the back burner waiting to be addressed while I happily convinced myself I'd 'moved on.' It was a hard thing to process all at once and I determinedly pushed it aside to ruminate on later.

"I thought you said you were going to back off," I'd reproached, but I know my tone had no real bite to it.

Walter had smiled benignly then nodded and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I've just bought a new Bugatti," he'd revealed with a grin. "Want to take it for a spin?"

I'd smiled back at his obvious ploy and nodded my assent. By the time we'd parted company later that evening, we were friends…of sorts…again. I'm glad about that.

I'd gone back to my motel room and looked around the sparse furnishings as if seeing them for the first time. Was this the extent of all I could offer a woman like Lisbon? An old tea maker, a hard bed and a rickety little table and chair? Or was it the alternative? A beat up old couch and a musty attic in a government building.

When I stopped to think about it, it was a toss up as to which one was more pathetic. And I also wondered why I hadn't yet bothered to do anything about it. Why after all these months, even though Red John was gone, was I still living exactly the same way as before? Still punishing myself. Still letting him win…

Was this really what my existence had come down to? Living in limbo where I'm still, as Walter said, clinging on to the past? Using it like some kind of anchor because I'm too damn scared to cut the rope and just go with the flow of life again?

It began to dawn on me then that all this 'baby steps' rubbish I'd been spouting to myself in regards to pursuing Lisbon wasn't about her at all…it was about me. About my fears of not only loving someone but actually having them love me back and all that it entails. About having a home…maybe even a family again one day. Was I really, truly ready for that?

As my mind wandered to Lisbon I couldn't help but smile and I found that the answer came swiftly and easily.

Yes. I was ready.

Once I'd acknowledged that fact, I'd made the decision there and then that things would have to change. If I wanted to move on with my life, I had to cut that damn rope and start actually building a new one.

Knowing I couldn't leave without at least offering some kind of an apology for my behaviour earlier, I'd got my phone and texted a simple, 'I'm sorry,' to Lisbon then I'd gotten together a few of my things and headed back out to my car. Forty minutes later with a tank full of petrol and a ready-made sandwich, I was on my way to Malibu.

I had plenty of time to think on the journey and by the time I'd reached my house I'd already decided that I was going to sell it and look for a place in Sacramento. It was where my home was now.

My wedding ring, however, was a different matter. Although I was eager to lose the anchor, I apparently still needed a buoy…metaphorically speaking of course. My ring was far more personal than the house; meant so much more. It wasn't guilt exactly that had me leave it on…more like how wrong it felt when I tried to take it off.

It's one of those things I'll have to look at more closely when I'm not so tired that I can hardly think anymore.

I got to the house in the early hours of this morning and the first thing I did was crash out on the couch for a while.

I awake to the sound of my cellphone ringing and blearily check the caller ID. It's Lisbon, probably wondering why I'm so late.

"Hey," I greet warmly.

"Where the hell are you, Jane?" she demands, obviously well on the way to a full-blown rage.

"Malibu," I reply, stifling a yawn. She doesn't say anything for so long I think we've been cut off. "Lisbon, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she says, her tone more subdued now. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," I say soothingly. "I just need to take care of a couple of things then I'll be back tomorrow. There's something I have to tell you…but I prefer to do it face to face."

"Really?" she queries, sounding a little worried.

"Don't panic, woman, I'm not leaving if that's what you're thinking," I assure her, grinning to myself.

"I know that," she retorts dismissively but I detect an undertone of relief.

Such little faith, but I understand why now.

"Did you get my text?" I ask softly.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"I meant it, Teresa, I was an ass yesterday and I'm sorry," I tell her contritely. "I hope you catch Greening tonight. Give me a call and let me know how it all goes, OK?"

"OK," she agrees. There's another pause then, with the most awful attempt at being casual, she adds, "So…I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"You will," I reiterate firmly. "Goodbye, Teresa."

"Bye, Jane."

I end the call and smile to myself. Just hearing her voice makes me homesick.

I get up and go to the bathroom then have a quick shower . When I've finished, I stand in the hallway for a moment just staring at my old bedroom door. I know what's behind there now and I'm ready to face it for the last time. I go in and come to a stop in front of the grisly drawing that has haunted me day and night for over a decade. The blood is brown with age and I reach out to touch it gently with my finger.

So much anger, so much heartache, so much grief. I let my hand drop to my side and glance around the rest of the room. The house seems to have an air of peace about it now that wasn't present before…or perhaps it's just the fact that I've reached a decision about my life that makes it seem so.

I leave the room without a backward glance then get dressed and go into town. I get something to eat then call in at a local business to arrange for someone to come out and redecorate the bedroom. It's not something I have the time or inclination to do myself. I then go to see a local realtor and we make arrangements so that they can keep the keys and oversee the decorator and any possible viewings.

From there I go to the local store and buy some groceries for this evening. It's not until late afternoon that I finally head back to the house. I plan to stay tonight then drop my keys off and go back to Sacramento in the morning.

I pull up then get out of my car and look out across the ocean. The beach is empty and I feel the urge take a walk along the sand. I grab the groceries and take them into the house then shed my jacket, vest, shoes and socks and leave them in the lounge before heading off out along the shoreline. I roll up my trouser legs and stroll through the shallows. There's something very soothing about the ebb and flow of the tide on one's feet and by the time I return from my amble I feel completely relaxed.

As I approach my house it takes me a moment to realise that there's a woman sitting primly on my front steps with a small overnight bag beside her. I'm shocked when I recognise whom it is.

"I don't think you're going to make it back in time for the party tonight," I say with a shake of my head as I come to a stop in front of Lisbon.

"Van Pelt's going," she replies with a careless shrug as she stands up and shoves her hands into her pockets. "Cho's taking lead. They'll be fine."

I notice her looking at me with some trepidation, no doubt second-guessing what I'm certain is an impetuous decision on her part, to come here and I give her a reassuring grin. I may not have expected her to be here but I'm not about to pass up an opportunity like this. I glance around and when I see no sign of her car I look back at her quizzically.

"How did you get here? And so quickly come to that?"

"Walter lent me his private jet to fly down here and then I got a cab from the airport," she explains a little defiantly.

No doubt wondering if I'm going to have another jealous fit over the millionaire.

"Were you really that worried that I wouldn't come back tomorrow?" I ask in amusement, letting her know it doesn't bother me.

"No. I just thought you might need a friend," she replies defensively. "You only ever come here when you're…troubled."

Really, could the woman be any sweeter? Or more caring? What have I been thinking taking it slow for so long?

I step up and surprise her by placing a firm, quick kiss on her lips.

"Thank you," I say sincerely. She gives me an awkward nod of acknowledgement and I take hold of her hand then bend to pick up her bag.

I pull her into the house behind me and lead her to the lounge. I drop her bag on the floor and gesture for her to sit down.

"Let me just get cleaned up and I'll make us some dinner. Are you hungry?"

She nods and I quickly go upstairs then wash off the sand from my feet and come back down still bare foot.

"How does pasta sound?" I ask, noticing that she doesn't seem to have moved an inch from where I left her. She's so adorably uncomfortable in these kinds of personal situations.

"Great. Thanks."

I busy myself preparing our meal and she eventually gets up and walks over to watch what I'm doing.

"I've put the house up for sale," I say casually as I put the pasta into the boiling water and turn to face her.

Her eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes. It's time."

She nods and for the first time ever I notice her gaze dart to my left hand. It's only brief but now I'm more aware of how she might be feeling, I wonder how many other times I've missed that telling action in the past.

"I'm happy for the house to go but…I'm not quite ready to take my ring off yet, Teresa," I say quietly.

"I didn't say you should," she replies a little self-consciously. "It's nothing to do with me anyway."

"Oh, Teresa," I say with a shake of my head and an indulgent smile. "Haven't you realised by now? It's got everything to do with you."

She looks at me in shock and as I'm about to swiftly close the distance between us the water from the cooking pasta boils over the top of the pan with a loud hiss. While I quickly attend to the food, she moves away from me back into the lounge and begins to pace. I can see her agitation in the way she runs a hand through her long hair and the jerkiness of her walk. Apparently my little revelation hasn't gone over quite the way I'd hoped. That's Lisbon for you. Can't take a compliment even if you hit her over the head with it.

"You know what?" she suddenly says irately as she stops to stare at me with a frown from across the room. "You are driving me crazy! You say things…then deny it. You kiss me…then nothing. You get jealous for no reason…and now you tell me this? What are you doing, Jane? Do you even know? What am I supposed to say to that?"

"Thank you?" I suggest helpfully.

She lets out a growl of frustration at my flippancy and turns to pick up her bag.

"You know what? This was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn't have come," she says as she stalks angrily towards the front door.

"Lisbon, don't go," I call after her urgently. She pauses mid stride for a second then continues on and my heart drops like a stone. I catch up with her just as she's at the door and plead softly, "Please, Teresa. Stay."

My hands are at my sides and I'm itching to reach out and touch her but I know she'd resist me further. She looks down as if contemplating my request then her head lifts and she turns to face me.

"Only if you stop playing games, Jane," she says defiantly. "I'm not going to be your next shiny new plaything just used to fill up your time because you're bored now."

I'm speechless. Is that really what she thinks I'm doing? I shake my head in negation long before I can find adequate words.

"You're not a game to me, Teresa," I refute intently. "You never have been. I'm just trying to deal with my emotions the best way that I can and even though I'm not ready to say the words yet, it doesn't mean that I don't feel the depth of them any less." I pause and give her a small smile. "You just have to face it, Teresa, you're stuck with me. When I look into the future, all I see…is you."

She searches my face for the truth of my words and her expression softens just a little bit.

"Do you really mean that?" she queries, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," I answer just as softly.

I know I'm not alone in understanding the importance of this moment as she takes her time to decide whether she believes me or not. Whether she's willing to give us a shot or not. The seconds stretch out as we continue to stare into each others eyes and I hope…I pray, that she puts me out of my misery soon.

She blinks and after another moment of hesitation she finally gives me a curt nod.

"I think that pasta's done," she says, dropping her bag and moving past me to head back into the kitchen.

My relief is almost overwhelming. I may not have openly said I loved her but she can be in no doubt of my feelings now…and she didn't leave. I am amazed and happy…and just a tiny bit humbled. I take a few seconds to bring my emotions back under control then join her in the kitchen. We work together in silence, sharing small smiles as we fill our plates then take them into the lounge with a glass of water each.

I put the TV on and we watch a well-known cop film as we eat, laughing at the obvious flaws in the plot line. We finish our food and place the plates on the small table in front of us and it's the most natural thing in the world for me to casually drape my arm around her shoulders as we watch the end of the movie.

I feel her tense slightly, then relax and lean into me a little more before resting her head on my shoulder. I can feel her hair tickling my neck and the fruity scent of the soap she uses infuses my senses so that I barely even register the film after that. It just feels so nice to sit with her like this and not think about things for a while.

The film ends and she lifts her head to look at me. I guess she wants to say something but when I turn to gaze back down at her we are so close it'd almost be an insult not to kiss her.

I dip my head and tentatively touch my lips to hers. With my veiled declaration still ringing in my ears, this feels different now. She responds almost immediately, her hand reaching up to grasp the back of my neck, urging me closer as she opens her mouth to deepen the kiss. Compared to this all our other kisses have been chaste. My tongue seeks out hers and they glide together in an erotic dance as I tilt my head to gain a better angle. I push my free hand into her hair at the back of her head, holding her in place until I suddenly feel her pushing firmly against my chest.

"Phone," she gasps as she tears her lips from mine and stands up to answer with a curt, "Lisbon."

I draw in greedy gulps of air and try to calm down my clamouring body as I sit and watch the play of emotions on her face. I assume it's Cho and the news appears to be good. She finishes the call, puts her phone away and looks down at me with a grin.

"That was Cho. The bust was success and Greening is in custody."

"That's good," I reply with a smile of my own as I stand up and take hold of her hands, gently drawing her back towards me.

"I…uh…I should go," she says still looking a little flushed. "It's getting late."

"You could stay here tonight," I suggest softly as I lean in and place tiny kisses along her jaw line.

She lets out a tiny whimper as I brush my lips over a certain part of her neck and I do it again just so I can hear that delightful noise once more.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she says, her breath hitching when I find another particularly sensitive spot. "Neither of us is ready, Patrick. Not yet."

As much as I want to ignore her and just continue indulging in eliciting those wonderful little moans, I know she's right. It is too soon and, really, when we finally make love it's not going to be on a couch in the house where my family was murdered.

That thought is as effective as a dousing of ice-cold water and I immediately pull back. My breathing is a little unsteady but after a couple of deep breaths I can manage a rueful smile.

"You're right," I say, putting some distance between us lest I give into temptation again.

"I am?" she questions curtly, obviously surprised and a tiny bit miffed that I've agreed so easily.

I gaze tenderly at her face, lips slightly swollen from our kiss, hair tousled from my hands and an expression of annoyance slowly blooming on her features. She certainly does know how to test my self-control.

"Yes; it shouldn't be here," I say with an apologetic smile.

I can tell she understands immediately and she glances towards the stairs before nodding. I put on my socks and shoes then grab my keys while she gets her bag and we go out to my car.

She tells me the name of the motel she's booked a room with and, as I know it well, it doesn't take long for me to get there. I wait while she registers then walk her to her room. She reaches up and pulls me in for another heated kiss that quickly re-ignites my desire but I determinedly pull back and shake my head at her seductive look.

"I'll be by to pick you up in the morning," I say firmly.

"Night," she replies, casting a quick look down my body then up again to give me a knowing smile. "Sweet dreams."

Little devil knows exactly what she's doing to me.

"Touché," I acknowledge as I chuckle at her cheeky echo of my taunt a few weeks before. I take my leave of her as she shuts the door then go back to my car still grinning to myself.

I've taken a huge step today, not just with Lisbon but with my life too. It's a little daunting to be honest but thrilling as well and for the first time in years I look forward to what tomorrow may bring.

END CHAPTER 7

[enbyjane]

I think it's absolutely mind-blowing and fantastic how the writers and the actors succeeded to create such wonderful characters, that I love so goddamn much with so little canon information about them. We know some of their trauma (at least for Jane and Lisbon and maybe Rigsby, even if we don't know Van Pelt's or Cho's traumas), but we don't know the names of their parents (apart from Rigsby). We don't know what happened to Jane's mother. We don't know if Lisbon's dad killed himself or was in an accident. We don't know their favourite foods, beverages, we don't even know their current actual hobbies! (Does Lisbon still play the flaut? We presume that no. But what does she like? I think baseball, but we don't know for sure. Does Grace still love horse riding, football? What is the situation with her family? What are Cho's interests, what about disinterests, family, anything?)

I don't know almost anything about them, in light of this. And yet I love them so much that I rant almost on a daily basis to @wardrobemoments about how some episode could have been better, how the characters deserved better or I send her a snippet from my 15+ fic ideas (absolutely NO joke), where I have Lisbon dream of her mother. All of the unknowns are spaces for me (and other fans) to fill in my(our) headcanons and what we see beyond the veils. Possibilities. I love this show and these characters so much that I think on a daily basis about them. I think it's extraordinary, how they managed to do this.

However I will never forget them for not giving us their birthdays :/

[bromfieldhall]

What Makes You Beautiful - A Mentalist Fanfiction

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: “Yesterday I made a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to give myself one whole year to woo and win the love of California Bureau of Investigation’s Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon.”

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Previous Chapters: 1

CHAPTER 2

"You're turning heads when you walk through the door,"

~ What Makes You Beautiful ~ 1D

February 3rd – 8.30pm

I hate charity auctions.

Especially one such as this, which is nothing more than a PR stunt to promote the California state police departments. Some middle-aged fool from the AG's office sporting a paunch and a God complex decided that relations between the Sacramento elite and local law enforcement needed to be vastly improved and here we are.

Each department is supplying one person to be a 'lot' for the evening.

Don't get me wrong, although I dislike charity auctions in general, I'm perfectly happy with the part where they actually raise money for a good cause. It's just the whole over the top razzmatazz that the organisers feel should go with it. Personally, I'd rather they came around with a box and we all put in what money we can spare. Maybe have a free glass of nice wine and go home. Why does there have to be a full on social gathering?

Better yet, why don't they just use the obscene amount of money they've obviously spent on this shindig and give that to their chosen charity instead?

I look around. There's a smattering of law enforcement officers and officials schmoozing the usual politicians and businessmen and women. Then you've got the people who were born to their wealth who are only here because it's their 'duty'. They don't particularly like mixing with us mere mortals, they do it simply because they think it makes them look good.

Those are the people I dislike the most. The rich fat cats with too much time and too much money. Full of their own self-importance. Never done an honest day's work in their life. They irk me.

They also remind me of me many years ago.

True, I worked for a living but I'd hardly call it honest.

I used to be just like them. Thought I had it all. Thought I was better than everyone else. Not a care in the world. Like, somehow, my celebrity status and all the wealth that came with it meant that nothing bad could ever touch me because of who I was and what I did.

I was such an arrogant fool. And I paid for it dearly. Am still paying for it, because my guilt will never completely go away. I deserve that.

I saunter around the hall catching snippets of other people's inane conversations and find myself drowning in the quagmire of never-ending tedium.

And I've only been here ten minutes.

I look around, searching for Lisbon. I'm only here because she specifically told me not to come. I mean, please…that's tantamount to a red flag to a bull. How could I not turn up?

After all these years you'd think she'd know that I never do what she's says, but she still keeps trying to order me about. It's sweet. Really.

I'm guessing she thought I'd actually listen this time because ever since our little…altercation over the Carlton case a few weeks ago, I've been noticeably behaving myself better. But that's work…this is personal. Doesn't count.

The sound of an obviously fake laugh draws my attention and I turn to see a man surrounded by a group of women. Speak of the devil…

Senator Carlton is holding court and clearly very much over the 'pain' of losing his dearly, departed wife to her murderous lover not four weeks ago. He sickens me. And he looks like a toad.

He catches my eye and scowls. It's not surprising. I did apologise to him as I said I would…it's just that nobody told me I had to make it sound sincere. Lisbon wasn't very happy with me but she didn't get suspended which is the main thing. After all, it's not her fault I can be a jerk sometimes. I can't be expected to change overnight, now can I?

Besides, I know full well that she spoke to him afterwards and smoothed everything over. He certainly walked out of the CBI a far happier man than he entered it. Lisbon does tend to have that effect on people…when she puts her mind to it.

I turn away from the odious individual and continue my perusal of the room. I notice that Cho is nursing a drink alone at the bar. I raise my glass of sparkling water and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement back. He is the nominated 'lot' from our team tonight. He's offering to teach basic self-defence to the lucky winner. I know he's been dreading getting up on stage. He's not one for the limelight is our Cho.

I scan the rest of the room and find Rigsby staring at the few couples that are making use of the dance floor. The pinched look on his face resembles one of a child who has had his favourite toy taken away but is determined not to cry.

When I check out the dancers I understand why. Van Pelt, who looks lovely this evening, is being whirled around the floor by a rather tall, rather handsome young man who, judging by his slightly dazed expression, can't quite believe his luck. It's obvious he's wishing that she were up for auction this evening.

I feel sorry for Risgby and Grace, they were good together. And now that he has long split up with Sarah, they could still be good together…if CBI rules allowed. I'm pretty sure that if they decided to take up their romance again, Lisbon wouldn't interfere this time. She'd let them be. They both deserve a little happiness after what they've been through.

Don't we all?

Speaking of which…I still can't see Lisbon anywhere. She's usually prompt to the point of being too early. But not tonight it seems. Odd.

I take a sip of my water and think back over the past month with a smile. Things are…better between us. I like to think almost back to normal now, but I was wrong before and so I'm being extra cautious. Keeping it light. Baby steps. Trying to get back to what we were before Lorelei's presence ruined everything. It's taking some time, but I truly believe that we will get there. I have to, for both our sakes.

Naturally, this delays my resolution somewhat. I can't attempt to go forward until we're back to where we started. It's frustrating, but necessary and as I told Lisbon a few weeks ago…I'm a patient man.

The song that's playing comes to an end and the auctioneer for the evening steps up to the mike. I don't recognise him and forget his name before he's even finished introducing himself.

Everyone moves to either find a seat or stand on the dance floor in readiness for the main event. The auction begins but everything is just background noise as I'm beginning to feel a little concerned that I can't find Lisbon. I walk over to where Cho is getting up from his barstool. It's his turn soon.

"Have you seen, Lisbon?" I ask, still scouring the hall.

He nods his head. "Yeah."

I wait for him to continue but when it's obvious that he's not going to be more forthcoming, I query irritably, "Well? Where is she?"

"Around," is his brief reply.

His evasive answer tells me that something is up. I don't know if it's to do with work or whether it's personal but all the same, it bothers me a little that Lisbon obviously chose to bring him in on it and not me.

"Where around, exactly?" I press, watching his impassive face for a glimmer of a clue.

Cho shrugs but doesn't reply. Instead he opts for classic avoidance. "So, what are you doing here? I thought the boss told you not to come?"

"Oh, she did," I concede with a smile. "I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

He snorts and looks away. "Yeah, wouldn't bet on that."

I'm about to ask him outright what the hell's going on when something the auctioneer says catches my ear. "Did he just say Lisbon's name?" I ask in amazement.

"Yeah."

I'm confused. "But I thought you were the one up for auction."

"I was, but when I got here tonight Lisbon told me that the plans had changed."

My puzzlement grows. "Why?"

I finally feel as though I'm going to get to the truth of the matter when Cho sighs and looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't know for certain but he has something to do with it," he tells me.

He nods towards the crowd of people on the dance floor and I grow tense when I see Senator Carlton making his way to the front.

"He came over when Lisbon was here and made…comments," Cho continues, looking a little angry now.

"Comments?" I repeat incredulously, feeling my own hackles rise at the thought of what the other man might have said.

"Comments," Cho confirms, his top lip curling up in distaste.

Why, that rotten, son of a…

The desire to defend Lisbon's honour surges through me like a tidal wave and my hands clench at my sides as I run through all the possible ways to inflict pain on the self-absorbed ass. I know I could get away with it and I'm pretty certain Cho would help.

"I asked her about it when he left and she just said that it was a small price to pay to keep you around," he concludes, a hint of accusation in his eyes.

I feel like I've just been punched in the gut and my anger rises anew. I don't have to be a mentalist to know that Carlton has somehow turned my foolish behaviour to his advantage. Apparently Lisbon has saved me yet again but it's not her job on the line this time, it's her self-respect instead. And I absolutely cannot let her do that for me.

I catch sight of Lisbon walking quickly onto the stage and my breath catches. She is stunning. The unassuming black dress accentuates her figure perfectly. It's sexy in an artless kind of way that's very appealing. All the other men in the hall seem to agree as the hush that had descended when she appeared dissipates into eager murmuring when the auctioneer announces that the winning bidder will enjoy an evening with Teresa including dinner at a place of her choice.

Carlton opens the bidding at two thousand dollars.

It's been the highest amount all evening of that I'm sure. I doubt anyone will raise him, which I assume is his intention, and I notice Lisbon's face take on a look of resignation. She smiles, trying to cover it up trooper that she is, but I can still see it. See what she's willing to sacrifice. And I bet she's even convinced herself that something positive is coming out of all this in that the charity will benefit from the money.

My Saint Teresa.

I walk towards Carlton and feel Cho following close behind, probably trying to ensure I don't do anything stupid. With no other bids forthcoming, the auctioneer begins to wrap up the 'lot' as I come to a stop beside the senator.

"Three thousand dollars," I say loudly, just before the man with the gavel can say, 'gone'. Lisbon looks understandably shocked when she hears my voice and then her mouth tightens in annoyance as she sees me standing next to Carlton.

The senator turns to look at me with a frown and I grin back at him. Gauntlet thrown down.

"Four thousand dollars," he bids, his eyes daring me to counter.

"Five," I offer, almost immediately.

The senator starts to get a red hue to his cheeks and leans towards me. "Back off, Mr. Jane, or you can say goodbye to your job," he says quietly through gritted teeth in what I guess he thinks is a threatening tone. He's an amateur compared to Lisbon.

To my surprise, Cho walks around me and stands in front of Carlton, arms folded. "Is that a threat, Senator?" he asks matter-of-factly. "Because it sure sounded like one from where I was standing."

"Going once," I hear the auctioneer call.

"From here too," says Rigsby suddenly appearing on the senator's other side looking grim.

"Going twice," the auctioneer calls a second time.

Carlton turns an even brighter shade of scarlet and I begin to think he might actually explode. "I'll have all your jobs for this," he hisses angrily before turning and walking away.

"Sold to Mr…?"

"Jane," I reply. "Patrick Jane."

The auctioneer smiles and indicates for Lisbon to leave the stage. She looks absolutely livid and heads straight for us, her eyes practically shooting flames.

"Uh-oh," murmurs Rigsby apprehensively.

I can understand his concern. "You two go, I'll handle it," I say, grateful for their intervention and wishing to give them a reprieve. They don't need telling twice and I'm quickly left alone to face Lisbon's wrath.

"What the hell was that?" she demands to know as she comes to a stop right in front of me.

I can sense her barely contained rage so naturally I have to push it. "You're welcome," I reply with a grin.

"Jane," she says, the warning clear.

"It's fine, Lisbon. Don't worry," I dismiss with a wave of my hand. "We merely persuaded Senator Carlton not to bid for you, that's all."

"Oh, God," she groans as she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm going to get suspended, aren't I?"

I raise my hand and take hold of hers, gently pulling it away from her face. She opens those amazing green eyes and I shake my head. "He won't bother you again, trust me," I tell her and I'm pleased to feel her relax a little.

She stares at me and I know she's trying to figure out what happened but in the end she just accepts it and lets out a little sigh. She looks down at our joined hands and I'm disappointed, but not surprised, when she pulls hers away. "I need a drink," she mutters, walking off towards the bar.

I follow and stand beside her when she perches on one of the stools. I order her a drink and get myself another water.

"You know you're going to have to pay for this, don't you?" she says seriously.

I'm not quite sure what she's talking about and glance at our drinks in perplexity. "I thought it was a free bar."

She looks a little self-conscious. "Not the drinks…I meant the auction…you know…me."

It's adorable the way she stumbles over her explanation. And the rosy hue that invades her face is far more becoming than the vermilion disaster that was Carlton.

"Oh, that," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I can afford it. Besides, you're worth it."

I deliberately keep my tone offhand but it pleases me to note that the colour deepens on her smooth cheeks. It's obvious she doesn't know what to say and I'm content to let the silence continue between us as she, no doubt, ruminates on all the possible meanings.

I know I said I'm taking baby steps but even an infant needs a gentle push sometimes in order for it to stand. Right?

A short, sweaty man walks over carrying a clipboard then thrusts it towards me with a pen and asks for my signature by way of confirming that I've won…Lisbon.

I fill out all the details and hand it back to him while I watch the auction conclude with complete disinterest. All my senses are attuned to the woman sitting quietly next to me. I know there are things she wants to ask me. There are things I want to say, but it's too soon. She's not ready.

The band take up their positions on stage. The lights dim slightly, taking the edge of the harsh lighting just enough to give the room a romantic ambience and they begin to play. It's a slow song and I can't resist holding out my hand for hers.

"Will you dance with me?" I ask with my most persuasive grin.

She hesitates for a second then smiles and places her hand in mine. I lead her onto the dance floor and can't stop my sigh of satisfaction as I take her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and I gather her in closer, chest against chest, thighs brushing thighs, our bodies moving easily together as if we've danced this way many, many times before.

"So," she says, finally breaking her silence and lifting her head to look at me. "Where are you going to take me for dinner?"

I gaze down at her and smile. "I thought that was your choice."

She shakes her head. "I made that a condition so that Carlton couldn't take me back to his place," she admits, confirming to me what I'd already suspected.

"I knew you'd set this whole thing up," I say with a shake of my head. "Please promise me you won't do anything like this again, Lisbon. I'm not worth it."

"You are, Jane, because you close cases. I need you on my team."

No matter how much I love holding her like this, I really want to shake the infernal woman for trotting out that same old excuse again. She's said it for so long now that I think she's actually starting to believe it's true.

"Besides, I had everything planned," she adds with a sudden smile that catches me off guard. "I knew when I told you not to come tonight you wouldn't listen. I didn't think you'd actually bid for me but I knew that if Cho said the right things, I could count on you to do something so that Carlton wouldn't win."

She looks so happy that her little scheme has worked, I can't find it within myself to be upset that she conned me in such a way. Turnabout is fair play after all.

"I'm impressed," I say letting my admiration to show. "Plus, the charity gets a nice little donation out of it. Win, win situation all round."

"It is," she replies, still grinning. "And it was nice to finally get one over on you for a change."

"Oh, you did," I admit as the music comes to an end and I reluctantly release my hold. "Apart from one little thing."

She pulls away with a frown. "And what's that?" she asks dubiously.

I reach out then take her hand and look deeply into her eyes as I raise it slowly to my lips. Holding her gaze, I press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Her skin is warm and I find myself lingering there far longer than I should when her mouth drops open a little and I hear her sharp intake of breath.

I eventually pull back with a smile, my lips still tingling from the tender contact. Keeping hold of her hand, I lean in closer. I hear her breathing hitch anew as I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper dryly, "Cho stepped in too early, I would have paid double."

I hear her gasp of surprise as I pull back and grin. I give her hand a light squeeze then release it before I turn to walk away, but she stops me.

"Wait, what about dinner?" she asks, that wonderful blush back on her perfect cheeks.

"No rush, Lisbon. You can choose when you're ready. Or not. Just let me know. I'll be waiting."

I leave her on the dance floor staring after me in confusion. I enjoy keeping her off kilter and quite honestly, if I don't leave her now I'll do more than just kiss her on the hand.

I make my way outside and to my car and I can't help but think that maybe charity auctions aren't such a bad thing after all.

END CHAPTER 2