#patrick jane fic

[cambria-writes]

good day! been a little while since i updated this one too. honestly it's just because i forgot; the chapter was written and everything lol. the one after this is still in the work though, so that... might take a little bit. it starts to get spicy so i'm trying by best to not be a cowardly little ace and just get in there.

word count: 2,722 rating: M warning: people are shirtless and pantless/trouserless, mention of a panic attack, age gap but left up to interpretation, getting cockblocked by a phone call, swearing, so scarcely proofread it might as well be whiteclaw, let me know if there's anything else!

Previous Next

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: 𝔏𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔚𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯

Waking up is a slow process.

The first thing you notice is that the pillow is softer than what you normally have at home. Your face is half engulfed in it in the best of ways. Like your head is cradled by a temperature controlled cloud.

The second thing that you notice is that, though the air should still be cool from early morning, half of you is warm. Almost too hot to bear; you can feel sweat beading on your collarbone.

The third thing that registers is that you’re very much not wearing your own clothes. It feels different, and definitely isn’t a dress, or whatever oversized shirt you’d otherwise be wearing to bed. And everything smells different. In a pleasant way your brain is still trying to make sense of.

You crack open an eye to look at what you think is the nearest window and take a second. Patrick Jane’s face is mockingly close. And you’re well on your way to being half on top of him; one arm holding onto his left shoulder and your right leg thrown over his left thigh. It wouldn’t even have been that bad, really, if his hand wasn’t also on your thigh.

Not entirely the development you expected after getting entirely too-violent flashes of someone else’s traumatic experiences. But also, unfortunately, not the strangest thing that’s happened to you in recent history.

You’re halfway back to sleep–there’s no way you’re going to stay awake to chance a conversation about all of this when you still have a raging headache–when you feel the hand on your thigh give the slightest of squeezes. Well fuck.

“There’s Tylenol and water on the chair,” Jane says quietly. His eyes stay closed. For all anyone could tell he still looks like he’s asleep.

You make a sound between a grunt and scoff. Pull your arm and leg away and turn around in bed like it’s no big deal. There is, in fact, a metal water bottle and two Tylenol on the chair Jane had pulled up the night before. You pop the pills in your mouth, unscrew the bottle and–

“Oh my fucking god,” you say, approximately, around a mouthful of lemon water and pain killers. Swallowing is almost painful and you can’t help but gag as the pills go down entirely wrong. Immediately try to flush them down further with more water and sputter and cough once you swallow. “Lemon? God, do you hate me?”

“You mixed your drinks last night. You’re dehydrated.” Jane takes a deep breath, almost a yawn, and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes are still closed. “You’re dehydrated,” he repeats patiently. “You might hate it but it’ll help. Drink.”

Throw your legs over the side of the bed and eye the bottle in your hands with utmost contempt. There’s no sugar in there, it’s just straight lemon juice in water. Maybe some salt. You’re pretty sure you felt pulp in there too. You swallow your pride and personal preference with another gulp of citrus water.

“Good gi–”

“No, nuh uh,” you cough and turn around, point a very tired finger at the man next to you. “You don’t get to call me that. Stop that.”

Jane finally opens his eyes, one arm thrown casually over his head and the other resting across his chest. The look on his face could only be described as a shit eating grin.

“Funny, I got the impression you liked that.” You scoff and take another drag from the bottle. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

It takes a second for you to bring the bottle back down from your lips. Yes, actually, despite how apparently very drunk you were, you remember everything very clearly. A little bit too clearly.

“You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that,” you reply slowly, bringing your legs back up to sit cross-legged on the bed. You stare at the wall in front of you; get the feeling that looking Jane in the face is going to make you lose whatever little nerve you still have left.

“The panic attack,” Jane says simply. “Can you tell me what caused it?”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you mutter, fidgeting with the near-empty bottle before screwing the cap back on. “It’s not the kind of thing you’d take seriously.”

This is when Jane slides himself up the bed to rest against the headboard. Reaches out to brush hair behind your ear to see your face.

“You wouldn’t lie to me. And with what you’ve been seeing and doing lately...”

It’s rare that he trails off like that, but you still resist the urge to turn and look at him. Take a deep, measured breath, and lean over the side of the bed to put the water bottle down on the floor.

“When I touched your hand when I was on the couch, I... It’s like I saw what you did. Back then. When you came home to...” It’s your turn to trail off. Wring your hands in your lap and screw your eyes shut. “I remember what the note said–the one on the door. I remember the lamp, how they were–how he displayed them. I panicked cause I thought, I mean, it’s crazy, right? Like, I have to have heard about this in the news, right? Or something? I’ve never experienced that before. So I just kind of...”

“Panicked,” Jane finishes, and you don’t like his tone. You can’t pinpoint what, exactly, it carries, but none of the options available sound good. Pain? Anger? Disbelief? Offense? Christ, this is so messed up.

“Yeah. I panicked. And then I tried to see if I could, like. See more? And I saw you driving up here. Jane, I saw the fucking mail in your hands. I could tell you which bills had come in.” When your breathing starts to speed up again, you feel a warm hand at the back of your neck. Makes you flinch, at first, but you lean your head back into it.

“Okay,” Jane says after a while, digging his fingers into the muscles around your spine to try and loosen them up. “Alright. What was in the mail?”

You scoff and open your eyes to blink away tears.

“One of them was the license renewal for your car. There was a phone bill in there too, and a notice from one of the private schools you’d looked into. And something from a relative, I think,” you list, trying to remember the return addresses you saw. “And a letter from Europe. I remember there were like, twenty stamps on it.”

Jane releases a rushed exhale. Like he genuinely can’t believe what you’ve said. Neither can you, honestly; it feels like it’s all just a big, surreal joke. Like someone’s going to bust through the guest bedroom door–which was left blessedly open–and say that you were actually hypnotized and that everything you think you saw was just a production of suggestion.

No one runs into the room. Jane scoot closer to you. The hand at the back of the neck moves to your shoulder.

“Skye. Look at me, please.” You keep your head tilted towards the ceiling and refuse to look down. “I’m not mad, I promise. Please just look at me.”

Though you don’t bring your head back down, you do tilt it to the side just enough to see his face. The calm smile on Jane’s face makes you want to scream. Turn the other way and wrap your arms around yourself.

“This is so fucked, I’m so sorry. Can we forget any of this happened? God, this is so fucked, this is so fucked.” You bite your lip and rock back and forth. This is absolutely another panic attack, god dammit. Try your best to keep your breathing steady.

When Jane tries to pry the arm closest to him away from your body, you put up a very cursory fight against it. Eventually, he just firmly takes a hold of your arm, puts a hand to the back of your neck again, and pulls you into him. It takes a few laboured breaths before you completely lose it. Grossly sobbing was not how you planned on spending your morning.

None of this is, actually, how you planned on spending any morning. But here you are.

Jane pets the back of your head and whispers things in your ear; you can’t hear much beyond the sound of your own sobbing and the blood flow roaring in your head. You vaguely, distantly realize that he’s not wearing a shirt when you ball your fists against his chest.

“That’s it, just keep breathing,” he says, eventually, a little bit louder, once you’ve been able to stop crying and at least try to breathe right. Feels like there are starbursts in your eyes. “You’ve been through a lot. This doesn’t help.” Puts his hands on your shoulders to pull you away just enough to look at you. “Have you talked to anyone at all?”

Shake your head and clear your throat. “N-no I–who would I have–no one would’ve understood. Who the fuck would I have talked to about any of it?” You try your best at a derisive laugh, but it sounds more like a sob. Before you can, Jane brings his hands up to your face to swipe at your tears with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you how you were doing,” he apologizes, frowning and pulling you back into his chest. “I should have checked in.”

Shake your head against him and sigh. “Not like anyone knew what was going to happen to me.”

“No, you’re right, which is exactly why someone should’ve stuck around to make sure you were alright.”

You don’t have anything to say to that. He’s not wrong. But, christ, how were you supposed to afford therapy in the first place? And even if you could, how were you supposed to explain to anyone what happened to you without having them wholesale minimize everything at best, and dismiss your experiences at worst? Even Jane probably only sideways believes you just because he was there for like, most of it. You honestly don’t think you could get some PhD having suit-and-tie asshole believe your wild fucking tales.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jane says, and the low tone he uses makes his chest rumble. You swallow thickly and try very desperately not to think about the states of undress you’re both in. Now is a very bad time to– “You’re still doing it.”

“Sorry.” It comes out almost as a whine. Your hands flatten against Jane’s chest. The feeling of his heart beating under his ribs is oddly... soothing.

He pets the back of your head one more time before disentangling himself and standing up. You feel too cold and a bit too untethered without someone next to you. Jane nudges his head at you and asks you to turn around. You sniffle and give your face one last pass–wipe your eyes on your forearm and your nose on your hand.

Once you’ve turned around, still cross-legged with your hands in front of you, Jane takes his place behind you. And it’s all you can do not to moan when you feel his fingers wrap around your shoulders and his thumbs gently dig into the tension in your neck.

“Holy fuck, how did you know?” You sigh, wincing as your muscles are forced to let go of each other and relax. Jane huffs in laughter and slowly moves up your neck.

“I don’t think anyone would’ve missed the way you carry everything in your shoulders,” he explains, slowing once he gets back down to the collar of your–his–shirt. “Do you mind if I...”

He pulls his hands away when you move, reaching over your head to pull at the shirt. Your heart is thrumming in your chest like a whole swarm of hummingbirds, but it’s whatever. It’s fine. This is fine. Honestly the only thing even remotely making you feel like you’re preserving your modesty is the fact that your bra is still blessedly on.

Jane whispers a quiet “thank you” before his hands return to your back. This time, his fingers maneuver around your shoulder blades and the feeling makes the breath stutter in your throat. It’s absolutely, definitely extremely nice to have someone work on your back after the weeks you’ve had.

“You’re tensing your shoulders. Relax,” Jane asks over your shoulder. The sly bastard has to know that it’s not at all funny to be speaking directly next to your ear like that. And there’s no way he can miss the gooseflesh that covers your entire torso when he does.

But, obediently, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your shoulders come down when you exhale, and you try to keep them as loose as possible.

It takes a second, but eventually you hear his say, “Good girl.”

You let out something akin to a frustrated growl and spin around, mouth open to say something. The words die on your tongue when you see the grin on Jane’s face, his hands still raised in front of him. Anyone else would’ve thought he was backing off.

“You kissed me last night,” is what you end up saying instead. “Wait, no, shit, that’s not what I–”

“I did.” Lowers his hands. Back to the calm and impassive face and voice again, god that’s frustrating. This time, though, you can see him clench his jaw.

Okay, that’s new.

“Why?” You can feel your ribs shaking and it’s taking everything you can muster to try and keep your voice steady.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?” you ask again, slowly sliding off the bed to stand next to Jane. He’s got one leg on the ground; you bump your knee into it.

For once, Jane is the one who has to look up at you, even if it’s not by much. Bite your lip nervously, and you can’t not notice the way his eyes follow the movement, just for a fraction of a second.

“Because you’re fascinating,” he replies, and the way he looks straight into your eyes makes it feel like you’re suffocating. You can see in your peripheral that he reaches a hand out. You expect to feel his hand in yours, but instead you feel the suggestion of a touch on your left thigh. Right over the graze.

“You’re at least a decade and a half older than me.”

This gives Jane pause. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious there wasn’t a sizeable age gap between you. He’d probably seen your date of birth back at the CBI when you were first there, and you’d definitely done your research on him weeks ago. The hand at your thigh retreats and Jane puts his other leg down, sits a bit straighter.

“If you feel like there’s a power imbalance and like I’m taking advantage of you, we don’t have to–”

“Ohmygod, no! No,” you rush to say, taking a step forward. “God, no, I don’t feel like that at all, Jesus. I’d be in a cab halfway home by now if I did.” Reach across yourself to grab your arm. “I just...”

Jane slowly grabs your arm and pulls it back down. You don’t miss the way his fingers stay at your wrist, over your pulse.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He’s speaking so quietly it’s he’s worried he’ll scare you if he speaks any louder.

“No.”

He waits for a second and hums.

“Tell me what you want, then.” The hand at your wrists pulls you forward. You’re standing between Jane’s legs. Can’t take another step forward.

“I–what I...”

Somewhere, a shrill ringtone goes off. Neither of you move until it rings for the third time, when it’s obvious it isn’t your phone ringing. Jane sighs and it looks almost painful. You step back to let him get up and grab his phone. It stops ringing when he flips it open, but as he’s going through his missed calls, the phone rings again.

“I’ll be right back. Sit,” he instructs, and his tone makes you sit down on the bed immediately.

You can’t hear what Jane says as he walks out of the room.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@fucklife-or-me @newavenger @yearningforsappho @mamacakeishereforfun @nastukee

[gemstone-roses]

Christmas fic party request:

Where reader is an fbi tech (post red John) and shoots her shot at Jane at the Xmas party. Smut. Lots of smut. Very comforting because I just imagine him being SO lovely. Age difference mentioned.

Patrick Jane x female reader

Summary: your feeling brave, the man you’ve been pining for is older than you, surely he’s not interested in you, right? Smut. 18+ only,protected sex, praise kink, lots of praise, eye contact , so much praise ugh I’m mad for this man okay! I’m begging people to send in more requests for him 🙏🙏

Warnings: explicit smut, 18 plus ONLY. Smut, protected sex, praise kink x10. Fingering. Pet names, Minors be gone from here!

A:N - I’m super proud of this one. Thankyou for requesting I hope you liked it 🥹🥹please feel free to request more for Patrick Jane too!! ❤️

The wince on your face as you glance around the room is prominent. You only came tonight for one reason. And he’s not here.

Your colleagues are busy getting merry, rigsby and van pelt wearing matching Christmas jumpers and paper hats. The music is so loud you can feel it coursing through you.

Jane had seen your mood dip around the holidays and he had made you promise you would at least show your face. You agreed solely because he said he would accompany you and your heart fluttered at his offer. The small touch he left on your elbow, the reassurance in his face when he said ‘I’ll be with you the whole time’ had you screaming internally.

You weren’t the newest member of the team, but you were quite a bit younger than Jane, and as he is so observant you did your absolute best to keep your crush on him secret.

It had been a long few years.

Fed up of the party, you duck out and find yourself wandering straight into something tall and hard.

Patrick

“Oh shit I’m so- you start, blinking at him as you try and play it off.

“Are you okay?” He asks rubbing your arm soothingly.

It seems your brain has short circuited as you just stare at him, he looks good, so good.

“Hey” he says softly, moving his hand to cup your face.

“Hey Jane” you squeak out, praying he can’t tell how flustered you are.

His brows crease at you, his thumb runs across the curve of your cheek and you cannot take this anymore so you bring your hand up to connect with the hand that’s on your face.

His eyes bore into yours as you wait for him to pull his hand away.

But he doesn’t.

“Jane, I- I need to tell you something I - you whisper closing your eyes as you speak.

“I know” he says lowly

“You what!” You say, horrified, eyes shooting open as heat rises to your face.

You try and turn away but he stops you, hands flying to your waist, gripping tightly.

Your lips part slightly as you take in the man in front of you. He smiles, leans forward and

Runs his thumb across your lip and once again your brain short circuits, you think you might die right there. There’s no way he doesn’t feel the way your pulse starts picking up and your eyes blow wide at his action.

“Jane?” You ask, voice cracking

“Yeah honey?” His voice slightly deeper, it makes your pussy clench and your heart soar.

“I love you” you say, and for a moment you panic thinking he doesn’t feel the same and then he closes his eyes and sighs, before pulling you in closer

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that” he growls.

He searches your face for any kind of hesitation and you nod, he smiles as he shakes his head.

“Use your words my darling”

“Hurry up and kiss me, please” you whine,

Your breath hitches as he cups your face again and brings his lips to yours. His lips are soft, he presses into you as he deepens the kiss.

You can’t help but let out a moan as he presses into you, it’s comforting, safe, and leaves you wanting more.

“Patrick” you whisper, as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, his hand comes back to cup your face, finger stroking slowly down your cheek.

“You okay?” He checks.

You nod a bit too quickly, and he chuckles.

“Shall we, go somewhere more private?” He whispers as he leans in to place a feather light kiss to your neck.

“God, yes” you mutter. He grabs your hand instantly and leads you up to his room above the office.

“It’s cold in here” you mutter as he shuts the door to his living space, instantly his arms are around you again, catching your lips in a searing kiss he cages you against the wall. One of his arms rest on the wall, the other tracing down to your waist. Your chest heaves as he teases his fingers up and down underneath your shirt.

“Please” you whine and he smirks, dipping his hand beneath the waistband.

“God your dripping” he murmurs rubbing your throbbing pussy through your panties. You clench your thighs together at his actions, and his words.

“Jane” you croak, desperate, needy.

“I love the sound of my name falling from your lips” he breathes, making you look at him before moving your panties and sliding in a finger.

It’s agonisingly slow, and of course Patrick can tell your getting frustrated with his teasing.

He speeds up a bit before adding another finger, your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Mm, Jane fuck” you whisper, he increases the pressure and starts to curl his fingers up as they enter you. His thumb comes to circle your clit and he catches your moan with a kiss.

“D-don’t stop” you moan as he presses his thumb into your clit as he curls his fingers hitting your G spot.

“Oh OH god” you whine

“That’s it honey” he soothes, breaking the kiss as your walls clench around his fingers.

“Jane” you say as you feel your orgasm approaching

“Come for me, that’s it, good girl” he says as he curls his fingers once more and you see stars as your orgasm crashes over you.

He holds you steady, fingers lazily pushing in and out of you as he fingers you through your orgasm.

“You okay”? He whispers placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod and he pulls you into his embrace.

“God that was- incredible” you pant, leaning in to give him a kiss.

He pulls you gently towards his bed.

He pushes you gently and you fall back

“Lie down” he whispers, he’s out of breath and it’s so arousing you can’t help the throb that courses through you.

Patrick unbuttons his suit jacket, hanging it up on the chair he climbs on top of you. Once again you feel safe within his presence.

His arms come to rest on either side of your head, he looks down at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Stop it” you say, trying to turn away from his stare.

“Don’t, don’t do that, your beautiful, let me see you yeah?” he tilts your face to look at him, as if you could love this man any more.

“Would you like to stop?” He asks and his face tells you that he would not mind one bit if you said yes, which just makes your heart pound faster in your chest.

“No, I’d very much like to continue” you say. And Jane runs his hand across your face, smiling.

You can feel Jane’s cock pressing into your leg through his jeans and you shift your hips slightly. He sucks in a breath as you sit up to undo his belt.

You do it slowly, payback. But it doesn’t last long as he ends up pulling it off himself before guiding you to lie back down.

He stands up and removes his pants before coming back and resting his hands at the top of yours.

He waits.

You nod.

He pulls down your pants and can’t help but moan at the wet patch in the middle of your underwear.

Your breath hitches as he leans down and presses his lips into your clothed pussy and hooks his fingers in the line of your panties and pulls them down.

Jane frees his hard cock from his boxers and it springs up against his stomach. A drop of precum glistening on the head.

You clench your thighs at the sight. Jane reaches for the condom under his bed and rolls it down.

He pumps his cock a few times before lining up with your entrance.

You breathe in as you prepare.

Jane’s hand find your clit once more,he watches your face as his fingers circle your clit. You relax slightly as he continues his actions.

“Hey” he says softly

“I’m okay” you say.

“Take a deep breath for me darling” he places one hand on your lower stomach and the other wraps around his cock.

You do, and he slides his cock into you, slowly.

“Good girl, keep breathing for me” he soothes as he pushes his cock all the way in. Your breath catches in your throat as he pushes deeper into you.

“Keep looking at me” he says and you throb around him.

“You’re doing so good for me” he praises as he goes to rub your clit again.

“Patrick” you whisper

“Can you- I need you to go-

“I know, I know” he coos, rubbing your hips with his hand,

“I’ll go slow, I got you” he soothes before thrusting into you slowly. One of his hands is still splayed across your stomach.

“Mmhm” you whine.

“You feel so good around my cock like this” he says, pushing his cock in and out, he feels you clench around him as he speaks.

You close your eyes as he angles himself a little differently, still thrusting slowly, but his cock is hitting your g spot.

“Patrick- fuck” you choke out.

“Mm, you make the prettiest sounds” he breathes, every moan out of you sending him closer to release.

He moves his hand from your stomach as he reaches for your puffy clit, gently applying pressure as he thrusts into you.

“Patrick, I’m-

“Look at me, good girl, come for me, come all over my cock” he encourages as he presses into you again.

You hear him groan just as his cock twitched inside you and your pussy clenches,

Your toes curl and you see stars as your orgasm washes over you. Your ears ring as you hear muffled praise falling from Patrick’s mouth as you come down from your high.

“So good for me, you did so good, you’re incredible my love” he soothes, rubbing gentle circles into your hip.

You whimper underneath him. He places his hands on either side of your face.

“Jane, that was - god that was perfect you say a lazy smile painting your face. A big smile lights up his face, “I love you” he says, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’ve wanted to say that for a very long time” he admits.

“Me too” you say shy all of a sudden, turning your face from him.

He tuts

“No honey, what did I say about doing that, now, I’ll get you a warm towel and some water and I’ll be back in a moment” he soothes as he gets up.

And you, couldn’t be happier.

[feministjane]

Desperately needed Kim complaining to Cho about getting left in 613 and he's just like still staring at his paperwork looks like he's not even caring...and she just pulls the "he LEFT me Cho" and he's like *sighs* and looks up at her "so leave him back" and then just walks away.

And then cut to a few episodes later Kim pulls that on Jane and just leaves his ass when he's being a brat and he comes to the bull pen all dishevelled...no jacket, buttons barely done, sleeves rolled up and goes straight to Cho like "thanks for teaching her that trick"

And Cho just smiles a small smile to himself as jane just collapses into his couch.

Lisbon walking up like "what happened to you!??"

"apparently Texas is less hitchhiker friendly than it was in my youth"

"Why didn't you get an Uber?"

"What the hell is Uber?"

Everyone turns in shock that he doesn't know what Uber is. 😂

"Hello, two years on an island, what's an 'Uber'?"

"Oh yeah those 2 years were real hard on you Jane." Lisbon teases and just sits down. No one answering his question, leaving him frustratingly googling on his phone.

"Uh...Lisbon?"

"U-B-E-R." She replies before he can even finish his question.

"Thank you."

[clarkesyd]

@thedrabblecollective

08. nickname

“How would you feel about a nickname?” Jane called from behind her, their baby sleeping on his chest as he laid on the couch at the FBI headquarters. Lisbon was finishing a report.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

Lisbon typed on. “Why?”

“Your co-workers find it unsettling–that we’re married, have a child together, and still call each other by our surnames. Myself, I think Terry might suit you.”

Lisbon swung her chair around, sarcastic grin in place. “Of course! And you’ll be Patty. How didn’t I think of that?”

Jane frowned in distaste, his hand stroking their son’s back. “Fair enough.”

read on ao3

[someonesaidcake]

Set between Episode 10 and Episode 11 | Read on AO3

Fool's Gold || Her Story

She set the glass down on the countertop and pulled the water jug from the fridge. The condensation slicked her fingers, cold and clammy, but she barely noticed. The chill couldn’t cut through the haze numbing her senses. It was just water. Just a jug. Just her.

She tilted the jug to pour, but the stream missed the glass entirely, splashing onto the countertop and pooling along the edge. A mess. One more thing to clean. She stared at it for a beat too long, her mind sluggish, before moving to find the paper towels. Her steps felt foreign in her own kitchen, her hand hovering over the sink and darting near the toaster before landing on the roll tucked by the microwave.

She yanked a sheet. It tore jaggedly along the wrong edge. Another. And another. By the time she stopped, seven crumpled pieces lay in her hand, each a testament to her restless frustration. With slow, disconnected movements, she dabbed at the mess, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the countertop.

And then her eyes caught it; the jacket slung over the back of her couch, neatly folded as though mocking her. It sat there, taunting her with the weight of all she hadn’t been. Not enough to make him stay. Not enough to keep him.

Her fist clenched around the damp paper towels, her movements sharp now, scraping at the water as if wiping away the evidence could erase everything. The sudden motion knocked the water jug, sending it crashing to the floor. The sound was startlingly loud, ringing through the silence of her home, but she didn’t flinch.

She crouched, her fingers brushing the jagged shards of glass, before she picked up a piece. The edge bit into her skin, carving a thin line across her fingertip. Blood welled up immediately, a perfect crimson bead rolling along the pad of her finger before spilling over.

She stared at it, her head strangely light, waiting for pain that didn’t come. She pressed the paper towels to the cut, more out of habit than care, but something inside her was shifting. The numbness began to crack, giving way to an ache that wasn’t just sadness, it was anger. Deep and searing.

Before she knew it, the empty glass from the counter was in her hand again. With a sharp breath, she threw it to the floor. It shattered, scattering more shards across the tiles, tiny fragments catching the light and refracting it like jagged stars. She stood in the centre of the wreckage, her boots planted in the middle of the chaos, her chest heaving.

At least now the outside matched the inside.

Read the rest on AO3

[someonestolemyshoes]

what the hand, dare seize the fire?

Pairing: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon  Show: The Mentalist  Rating: Teen and Up Summary: 

She slowed her breathing and searched her mind for a recent memory. Anything at all that might give her some kind of clue. She remembered driving out to Salton Sea. She remembered a body in the desert, and a small diner off the highway. She remembered calling Grace, fighting with Jane, driving back to Sacramento alone. Awareness hit her like a bolt of lightning, and her eyes shot open. The brightness in the room sent a white hot stab of pain through her skull but Lisbon did not close her eyes again. She darted her gaze around and found herself not in her bedroom, but in a brightly lit hospital room with daylight spilling through the half-open blinds, sunbeams pouring over the foot of the bed. The beeping came from a monitor which she was strapped to, the pace of which had increased dramatically in the last ten seconds. She looked down to find herself dressed in a hospital gown and half covered in a scratchy blanket. The distress call. The dilapidated old house. Partridge. Red John. 

I have always wondered what might have happened if Red John had been less charitable when he kidnapped Lisbon in Desert Rose, so I wrote about it! You can read the fic here :)

[adder24]

Flowers for your hotdogs

A crossover fic with the Mentalist and Castle, since we never got the crossover of the centurary.

A/N: The timelines are not accurate I admit since I have mashed season 6 of the Mentalist with season 4 of Castle. I know I know but it's a bit of fun right?

Summary: Fed up of being restricted by the FBI, Jane makes a break for it while working a case in New York. He manages to throw the FBI off his scent but in doing so, he manages to bump into one of New York's finest detectives and a famous Author come consultant who both require Jane's expertise.

@profwonderbearthementalista @captkatecastle @untilthe12ofnever @nuggsmum @loops911 @nikki-rook @loops911 @hellostickerdoodle @myfriendtheurbanlegend @bonnie131313

Story below the cut

Chapter 1 - Damp Warehouses

When a dog is put on a short leash, it loses the ability to explore, to get acquainted with its surroundings and familiarise itself with the locals so to speak. It’s a tactic used to make a dog fall into line and a Tactic that the FBI were currently using on Jane. The problem was the more restrictions they put on him, the more Jane tested them and the trip to New York and being denied a Hot dog, was the breaking point.

He created a suitable distraction, by getting a suspect on a homicide to tell Kim Fischer she was going to inform the media, and while her and Lisbon ran after them, Jane decided to make a break for it, evading the other agents on the ground and blending in with the crowds of people around him. With his new found taste of freedom his first stop was a hot dog stand on the Manhattan side of Brooklyn bridge, next to the City hall park. Understandably there was a queue but eventually Jane reached the front of it and put in his order for a hot dog all the way.

A child like smile spread across his lips as he was given his hot dog, Jane made sure to pay the vendor generously, using the leftover change that he got from the disallowed hot dog earlier, but as he was about to take a bite, he sensed someone close by watching which was soon confirmed by an excitable sounding “Patrick Jane?!”

He turned his head to the voice and upon recognising the tall,stocky looking man coming towards him, he too got a little excitable.

“Richard Castle?!” He replied, chuckling when he saw the other man's Jaw drop and then turned to the woman standing next to him, the woman he could only assume would be the inspiration behind Nikki Heat. Kate Beckett.

“He knows me! Kate, he knows me!” Castle squeaks happily

“How can I not know you? The Derrick Storm novels and now The Nikki Heat stories? You’re pretty well known” Jane replied calmly as he took a bite from the hot dog and savoured the taste “I have been craving this all day”

“The man likes hot dogs too” Castle whispered as Kate gave him a look.

“A lot of people do Castle, now can you stop fangirling for five minutes and explain to me who Patrick Jane is” Kate replied firmly.

“He’s a Psychic!” Castle replied happily.

“No such thing as Psychic’s, more like an elaborate con artist” Patrick interjected with a smile

“A con artist?! You’re fangirling about a Con artist pretending to be a Psych-Wait hang on, Patrick Jane? The same Patrick Jane who’s fam-”

“Family was murdered by a serial killer! Yes, that Patrick Jane, I was trying to avoid bringing that up around him Kate but nevermind” Castle grumbled

“It’s okay…I have grown accustomed to it now.” Patrick replied as his smile fell a little. “Yes I am that Patrick Jane and yes I know you two are more than just Colleagues and I am guessing you’re trying very very hard to keep it a secret from those you work with”

Both Castle and Kate looked at him dumbstruck. They had literally only just met him and the man was already picking up on the fact they were an item and desperately trying to keep it hush hush.

“Oh he’s good!” Castle said a little too enthusiastically.

“Yeah, he’s a con artist Castle” Kate replied unimpressed, “He probably followed us-”

“Or I have a good read on people. Castle here, he’s like a Labrador, Excitable, always sees the world as his playground, can be tamed with food and is loyal to his family and those he loves but you Kate, you’re a little more complex. See you want to be like him but you lost someone very close to you and their death has given you a thirst for revenge, one that hasn’t been quenched yet but you have been tantalisingly close on a few occasions. And that drive, that quest you have set out in your mind, it’s what has closed you off a little from all the good things he sees in this world...You’re opposites but you need one another. You need him to help you lighten up and he needs you to ground him and reel him in a little, otherwise he becomes an untameable, bouncy labrador that humps all the furniture” Jane interrupted, watching their expressions as he accurately described them. “Am I close or do you still believe I followed you? A bit of a feat considering I crossed over from Brooklyn”

“I don’t hump furniture!” Castle blurts out, watching Jane as he takes another bite from his hot dog, chuckling.

Kate however was a little more shaken up. It felt like Jane had reached into her soul, pulled out her memories and was poking at them, seeing what kind of response he would get from her when he was able to discover her life story in mere seconds.

“How did you do that?” She asked him carefully

“Like I said, I just have a good read on people” Patrick replied casually as he finished off his hot dog.

"Right…come on Castle we got a case to work on" Kate says cautiously, watching Patrick closely.

"We do-wait, I got a brilliant idea" Castle replied, his voice filled with excitement.

"Oh no" Kate groaned.

"Oh no? What's Oh no?" Patrick asked, being his usual nosey self.

"Why don't we get Jane to help us solve the case quicker?! That's only if he hasn't got anywhere to go or isn't working" Castle suggested, watching the death glare form on Kate's face.

"Excellent idea, I'm not working on anything, I'm just here visiting" Patrick replied with as much eagerness as Castle.

"We can't just bring him into the precinct like a stray dog and hope Gates will let him work a case" Kate growled 

"Then like a stray dog, we sneak him in, tell her he's a witness or something." Castle replied

"You know the times where I hate you? This is one of them. He can tag along but there are rules." Kate said sternly 

"It's okay I'm house trained" Patrick interjected.

"Oh great, he's just as Snarky. Okay Patrick, rule one, you don't tell anyone what is going on between me and Rick, do and I lose my job. So unless you want me to use your inside as a football, I suggest you keep it quiet. Rule two you only read the suspects. Castle I don't want you encouraging him either" Kate said firmly giving the man that look "Rule three and the final rule, if you want a coffee…make it yourself"

"But I only drink tea" Patrick replied

"Then you should be fine" Kate said as they started to walk towards the car "You coming?"

“Absolutely!” Jane said with a beaming smile, chasing after them, eager to see how this dynamic partnership worked together.

The journey to the precinct was a bit of a whistle stop sightseeing tour for Patrick, he got to see the Empire State building, Times Square, a peek at the Chrysler building and a fleeting glance at lady liberty herself before they finally reached the precinct. Patrick got out of the car and took a moment to get himself acquainted before Castle showed him the way in and signed him in as a guest. They then made their way up to where the magic happened, a small area that was alive with the hustle and bustle of detectives working cases or acting on call outs. It felt a little like home for Patrick, reminding him of the CBI before it was disbanded.

“Do you have a couch?” Patrick finally asked

“Yeah in the family room…where we talk to the families, why?” Castle asked “Oh it’s just how I do my best work, laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, listening to my environment. Something I asked from the FBI but they're not in the mood to bend and consequently I’m not doing my best work for them” Patrick replied, giving Castle a coy smile.

“You think Kate will buy it?” Castle asked him

“She will buy it if you are in on it, say ... .I tell you it’s a technique used to gather your thoughts, see clarity in your decisions and all you have to do is tell her it works”  Patrick suggested, knowing full well Castle was up for a bit of mischief making.

“I’m in!” Castle replied Defiantly 

“Excellent, show me the way to the family room and I will show you the magic” Patrick replied confidently

“Certainly and may I say, I like you, we’re going to get into so much trouble” Castle said happily.

“Oh we are, we really are” Patrick replied with a chuckle as Castle showed him to where the couch was kept.

Oddly enough, it was a similar one to the one Patrick grew accustomed to, only this one seemed a little more supportive. He sat down, bounced on it a few times before laying down on it to get a feel.

"Oh this is comfortable, I can work with this" Patrick said as a grin spread across his lips "Wanna give it a go on the other one Castle?"

Castle quickly looked around to make sure no one was looking in before he too took his place on the other couch, laying his 6 foot 2 frame across the cushions and letting out a contented groan.

"Oh yeah…I can see why you like this way of working" Castle said huskily 

"It's great, you can relax and let your brain unravel the case but what's even better, is you can listen better like this…you can hear everything going on, channelling in on the right conversations, picking up little nuggets here and there" Patrick says as he closes his eyes to tune his listening skills  "What's the case you're working on?" 

"A guy killed by a Zombie" Castle replied nonchalantly 

"You're joking right?" Patrick replied surprised 

"I'm not. We got video evidence. It's really cool but a little creepy!" Castle replied excitedly

"There is no such thing as Zombies. It's illogical for them to exist" Patrick replied calmly, knowing Castle will argue against him.

"Okay well I guess I'll have to show you the footage to make you believe" Castle replied.

"Guess you will" Patrick replied softly 

There was a moment's silence between the two men, both of them listening to their environment momentarily before Castle's curiosity got the better of them.

"You know how you freaked out Kate? Can you do that with me?" Castle asked "Just curious to know what you're psychic abilities picked up on me"

"Not psychic and I already did" Patrick replied as he turned to look at him "You ready to hear it?"

"Fire away" Was Castle's response, not truly prepared for what Patrick was about to say.

"On the outside you appear as this loveable guy that has a good sense of humour, wit and charm but on the inside you've experienced a lot of heartbreak, sensing your father was never around when you was born, that you took on the responsibility to be the man about the house, look after your mom, pay the bills and help keep a roof over your head." Patrick replied

".......I never told-"

"I'm not done" Patrick interrupted "You put on the playboy act after a broken heart by a childhood sweetheart, you didn't want your heart broken like that again so you played the field for a very long time…got married a couple of times and had a child. A daughter who is and always will be the apple of your eye. You're loyal, loving to your family and now you actually feel ready to have a serious relationship with someone, who I believe is Kate or Beckett as you call her at work. Problem is you love her but you still keep things from her and I can tell you, you need to be open with Kate, stop hiding behind the playboy act, lower your walls a little and just be you. You don't need to impress her Castle, she likes the man you are." 

Castle just stared at him, he was impressed by the man's skill, if somewhat a little uncomfortable by the man's accurate reading. Of course it did cross his mind that Patrick may have researched him beforehand but something was telling him that it was not the case, that somehow, Patrick leapt into his mind and relayed all that he saw before him.

"How far off was I?" Patrick asked

"Did you research me?" Castle asked

"Nope, didn't have time and didn't know I'd end up working alongside you." Patrick replied casually.

"Well for someone who hasn't done his homework, you got it spot on. You gotta teach me how to do it, it would be a cool thing to do at parties!" Castle responded enthusiastically.

"I'm not one to give out my trade secrets but as a tip, people give out visual clues all the time, you just need to know where to look and how to read it." Patrick replied with a smile.

"Kate can be my test subject" Castle replied thoughtfully

"Yes she can but don't be too obvious with it, try and be subtle" Patrick advised.

He then went on to spend ten minutes schooling Castle on how to subtly get a read on someone, reminding him to keep eye contact with someone but not make it uncomfortable, all before Kate burst into the room and stood in the doorway, a disapproving look on her face and her arms folded across her chest.

"She's upset" Castle said calmly

"Yeah it's quite obvious" Patrick replied

"Castle you asked to have this man work on the case and here you both are, laying on the couch, gossiping while I am out there busting my ass off trying to catch a lead" Kate said in frustration.

"This is how Patrick works, you lay on the couch and lis-"

"I don't care. Get your asses to my desk. Now!" Kate demanded, giving Patrick her trademark death glare "I don't care how you work, when you are under my command you do things my way. Are we clear Mr Jane?"

"Oh we're clear but you'll be surprised what you hear from the couch" Patrick replied in an annoyingly optimistic manner, hoping he could make Kate crack a little.

"Desk!" She snapped back at him as Castle hurriedly ran to get another seat setup at Kate's desk.

"But I don't know where you sit" Jane protested "And I still need a cup of tea"

"Tea can wait. Follow me if you know what's good for you" Kate replied.

Patrick shrugged his shoulders and followed her through the office, watching the people around him work and noting two detectives that were giving him a quizzical look as he passed them by. He then approached what he assumed to be Kate's desk and sat in the empty seat next to Castle, the man presenting Patrick with a cup of tea he had made for him.

"Did you put the water in, make sure the tea bag stewed a little and then the milk?" Patrick asked him.

"Yep, my mom knew this English guy who was very precious about the way his tea was made and he taught-"

"Guys. A little focus here" Kate said sternly

"I made him tea," Castle said proudly.

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head before presenting Patrick with the file they were working on. Inside was the report on the body from Laney, pictures of the body and the crime scene and a few statements from those who attended the scene along with information gathered on the victim and a list of potential suspects.

"For someone to bite another human and leave behind a deep wound, they would need to be high or deranged" Patrick said as he continued to read the notes.

"Or a zombie,"  Castle interjected.

"You only ever bite someone if it's in self defence or…you're sexually aroused by it. This doesn't come across as either…was there any chemical residue left behind?" Patrick asked

"As a matter of fact there was, traces of a chemical found only in this specific Warehouse district downtown which is on the to do list" Kate replied as she studied Patrick "You thinking drugs are involved?"

"Could be, where's this Charlie fellow?" Patrick asked

"Down in holding, he believes he's going to turn into a zombie" Kate replied with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Ooof. Someone's been watching too many horror films. Can I speak to him? I want to know what person we're dealing with here" Patrick asked

"I'll take you to him, I would say take Castle but it'll only encourage his zombie fixation" Kate replied.

"Don't come running when he turns and hungers for your brainy goodness" Castle quipped as he started going over the files again.

"Nice tea by the way" Patrick said, raising his cup to him as he walked alongside Kate. 

They didn't speak much but Patrick could tell that this was a woman who was strong minded, stubborn and confident. He could see It in the way she walked, the way she commanded authority and kept her team in check but under that tough exterior he knew there was a soft spot, someone who was warm, caring and understanding. He just needed to gain her trust a little.

"Do you have a team you work with in the FBI?" Kate asked him finally.

"Yes…yes I do it's still being put together but all the right ingredients are there, it's just getting them to click into place" Patrick answered as they reached the holding cells and waited for someone to sign them in.

"I'm guessing you're an agent" Kate said as she began to fill in the forms.

"No actually, I'm a consultant like Castle I guess" Patrick replied. 

“So who’s lucky enough to have you as their pain in the ass?” Kate asked with a chuckle

“Theresa Lisbon, you’d get along, she has things she can teach you and you have things you can teach her” Patrick replied as he signed the forms where he needed to “We have worked with each other a while now, she’s the only one I truly trust when it comes to things close to my heart”

“Sounds like you have a soft spot for her” Kate says with a smile

“I’ve worked with her for years, of course I’m going to develop a soft spot for her” Patrick says defensively as Kate walks him into the maze of holding cells, every single one of them empty bar one, which was occupied by Charlie, tall man with short black hair, wearing a grey shirt, white tee and Black trousers. Sure enough, Patrick saw the bite mark on his arm, same as the one found on the victim.

“That is interesting!” Patrick says gleefully as he sits down on the floor, placing his cup of tea on the ground between his legs “Hey I’m Patrick Jane, I’m another consultant. Look I need to ask about the attack, smooth out a few details. Now according to Zombie lore, by now you would have turned and that wound on your arm would become a lot more redder and angrier, your veins would be purple and more to the surface and you would be clammy and sick looking, like you have the flu. None of that has happened so I think you’re still able to help me understand what happened to you and David.”

Charlie slowly looked at his arm and then back at Patrick, indicating for the man to carry on with what he has to say.

“I want you to close your eyes for me and slow your breathing down, breathe deep in through your nose, hold for three seconds and breathe out slowly. Can you do that for me?” Patrick asked

“Yeah ... .I can do that” Charlie replied as he slowly closed his eyes and followed Patrick’s instruction.

Patrick waited a couple of minutes, watching the man calm himself down and fall into some form of trance that made him a little more amicable and easy to coerce.  The perfect moment for Patrick to try and draw out some information they couldn’t get out from him while he was hysterical and focusing on his bite.

“I know the attack was quite violent and disturbing for you but I want you to try and remember that day for me, recall any smells or sounds that put you there, maybe there is a colour that reminds you of that day” Patrick says softly, watching the man relax.

“Glue….I could smell Glue….like latex glue” Charlie replied

“Okay that’s good. What else stood out to you?” Patrick asked him

“Rust and…staleness, no damp, the clothes smelt damp” Charlie replied

"Good and did you recognise this person who attacked both you and David?" Patrick asked.

"No idea they just…they came for us and then ran off" Charlie replied 

Patrick took a sip of his tea and looked at Kate with a smile.

"Rust and damp smelling clothes would fit warehouses, especially the leaky ones. But…I don't think our killer was of sound mind and I have a feeling, since Charlie here doesn't know them, is that they were hired to kill or maybe coerced" Patrick suggested before he clapped his hands, snapping Charlie out of his trance "Thanks Charlie you have been a big help"

Charlie blinked, confused and disorientated, unsure of what happened to him as Kate gave Patrick a perplexed look.

"Did you hypnotise him?"She asked

"No just calmed him down and made him more cooperative" Patrick replied with a smile as he got to his feet and picked up his tea from the floor “Castle makes a good cup of tea”

“I'm sure he will be thrilled to know” Kate replied as she walked with him out of the holding area. “Fancy having a walk around some of New York’s finest warehouses in the middle of the night?”

“Sure. I don’t sleep much anyway so maybe a walk around some Warehouses might make me sleepy” Patrick replied with a sarcastic tone and a cheeky smile on his lips.

“I’m guessing you have a hotel room for the night?” Kate asked as she started to sign them out 

“Err…not really I was just going to take a chance on luck” Patrick replied as he started to sign the documentation.

“Well Castle has a spare room or three you can make use of, I’m sure he would love to have you around” Kate replied as they made their way back to the bullpen 

“I’ll be sure to ask him” Patrick replied

Once they returned to Beckett’s desk, she started to put her plan into action. Her, Castle and Patrick would take a few warehouses within  Manhattan, while Ryan and Esposito took a few spots along the Hudson and of course they would move at night, usually the time where crime would be at its peak and they may catch a few breaks with some drug dealers that could potentially have a role to play within the case. So as soon as Darkness fell over the city, Beckett and her team got to work, Esposito and Ryan headed to their spots while Kate, Castle and Patrick went to theirs. Their first spot was a bust, nothing happening, no suspect behaviour or even drug dealers but the second spot, the second spot was interesting. There was steam and a creepy atmosphere around the place which oddly put a smile on Patrick's face.

“Oh this is deliciously creepy” Patrick said joyfully

“Even more reason to have your wits about you Patrick” Kate retorted as they walked through the grounds of this particular spot.

“Oh I have my wits about me, don’t you worry about that” Patrick replied as he marvelled at the spot, chuckling when he saw how on edge Castle was, despite the man trying to disguise it with the macho front he put on. Of course, it teased out Patrick’s mischievous side, he couldn’t help himself and when the right time presented itself, Patrick struck. He managed to find a discarded paper bag,collected air into it and popped it, the explosion loud and reverberated around the grounds of the warehouse. Castle must have lept twelve feet in the air, causing Patrick to laugh loudly before he realised Kate’s gun was trained on him and he flung his arms up in the air to show submission.

“Do that again and I’ll tell Lisbon personally why you came home with a hole in your body” Kate snapped.

But as Jane was about to reply with a witty comment, something caught his eye, something running frantically behind them.

“You might want to turn around” Jane said hurriedly

“If you’re tricking me, I swear-”

“I’m not tricking you! Turn around, there is someone running for their lives!” Patrick pleaded

Thankfully Castle saw it too, despite his nerves already being shredded by Patrick’s antics.

“Kate I think they need help” Castle said

Kate slowly took her eyes off Patrick and looked in the direction both men were looking in, sure enough there was a young woman emerging from the steam in the distance, sprinting towards them, horror etched on her face.

“Get out of here! They’re coming!” She screamed as she ran past them, Patrick watching her path as she ran by..

“Gotta admire a woman who can sprint in heels!” Patrick said before he then turned to look in the direction she came from and sure enough, emerging from the steam was a horde of people also running in fear.

“Okay what’s going on?!” Castle blurted out as he watched Patrick and Kate watched as these people ran past them screaming.

Then there was an eerie silence as the screaming died off into the distance. A moment for them to catch their breaths and try to figure out what had just happened. Patrick was about to speak before he noticed a crowd of slow moving people In the distance, people that stumbled over their feet, that had their hands outstretched. They could hear the distant growls and groans before they emerged from the shadows, coming from every direction. Patrick's eyes lit up in wonder while Castle appeared more panicked. He knew what this group of people were.

“We need to run!” He shouted

“Why?” Patrick asked, confused.

“Because if we don't they'll eat out brains, they're Zombies Patrick!” Castle replied

“.....Zombies? Well this should be Interesting” Patrick replied calmly.

“How are you calm?!” Castle yelled

“Err…I dunno, maybe I know the difference between fact and fiction” Patrick replied 

But the Zombie horde got closer and closer, Patrick fought  back the urge to yell out Lisbon's name as he became increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of people coming towards them, vacant, soulless eyes staring right at them. Unsettling, unnerving and creepy. Kate quickly drew her gun and stood her ground.

“CASTLE, PATRICK, GET BEHIND ME!” She yelled as she kept eyes on the horde.”This can’t be real…”

“WE’RE OUTNUMBERED!” Castle replied, panicked by the sight.

“Significantly! You don’t have enough bullets in that gun to hold them back,so I hope you got a plan, Detective” Patrick warned as he backed himself up against Castle

“Only one. Hold tight and be prepared to fight!” Kate ordered.

[stxrdust-widow]

Ok, so I’ve officially started outlining a general timeline for my upcoming TM fics. I’ve decided that the college AU and my dark/ dramatic AU are gonna be in the same ‘verse so hooray for me.

I do however need recommendations for favourite non-case related jisbon interactions (ie: the mind reading scene from s1), just like light/ funny/ vaguely flirty comments that they made to each other throughout canon because I want to include some for plot reasons lol

Anyone have any recs?

[queenmabcreates]

Here’s another one of my favorites from this year!

Rosewood by iola17

[heclosescases]

Rushed into the World (A Jisbon Fic)

It was supposed to be a normal day with Lisbon at the FBI and Jane focussing on the remodel. When she goes into early labour both of them are terrified about what the consequences may be and their child's health. It wasn't supposed to be like this, they had a birth plan, but their child has other ideas.

My 100th fic on AO3!

[freakin-zazzed]

another installment! Jane and Lisbon and their couches galore

[thehiccupingbanana]

Main Street Drive-In Theater

PAIRING/FANDOM: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon (The Mentalist) GENRE: fluff WORD COUNT: 6,462 WARNINGS: emotional and mental abuse from parent, mention of a dead parent, mention of alcohol abuse, parent using child for financial gain, mention and use of a gun but it's a carnival game not a real one SUMMARY: A new drive in theater opens up in town and the gang goes one day after school. There they meet Patrick, who has a cool car, and who Lisbon had taken a liking to almost immediately. OR Inspired by the song Main Street Drive-In by The Moxies ADDITIONAL TAGS: Song: Main Street Drive-In (The Moxies), AU: Highschool, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, background van pelt/rigsby

[MAIN STREET DRIVE-IN -THE MOXIES LYRICS] [READ ON AO3]

Lisbon sits down with her friends at the lunch table on the outside patio after their Criminal Justice class lets out. She notices how much nicer it is outside now that winter and all the cold fronts have passed. When Pike sees her at the table, he smiles at her, and she gives a half smile back.

“Guys, the drive-up movie theater is opening up this weekend again, we should go!” Van Pelt says glancing at her boyfriend of four years, Rigsby to let him know it is not a question. “They are going to be playing WALL-E, and it could be fun!”

“That would be fun to go watch an old movie and just hang out!” Hightower agrees, “Cho, Pike, Lisbon? What do you think?”

“I won’t mind going, I love WALL-E.” Lisbon nods. Cho and Pike nod when they notice Hightower is still looking at them for an answer.

“Yay!” Grace cheers.

~

“Yo, Cho, check out this car.” Pike grabbed Cho’s attention, “This car is so cool.”

“Thanks, it’s a Citroën.” A guy looking around their age, presumably the car owner, announced walking toward the car holding a drink and popcorn.

“How did you get this car?” Cho asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

“Ehh, that’s a long story, short story is a client gave me this car as payment.” the guy chuckled, setting his drink and popcorn on the roof of the car.

“I think you just made Cho very suspicious of who you are and what you do.” Rigsby cut in, reaching out his hand for a shake, “I’m Rigsby, that’s Cho and Pike. We go by our last names because we are going to be detectives one day and we are just trying to get used to it.” Rigsby explained.

“Well, my last name is Jane if you want to call me that.” the car owner, Jane, replied.

“Rigs, do you want to find a spot somewhere, the movie is supposed to start soon…” Van Pelt ran up to them, Lisbon and Hightower right behind her, threading her left arm through one of Rigsby’s arms, “Oh, hi sorry, I’m Van Pelt.” she smiled, reaching out her right arm for a handshake that was returned by Jane.

“Hey guys this is Jane, he has this cool car. Jane, Van Pelt here is my beautiful girlfriend, and the girls are Hightower and-”

“Lisbon.” Lisbon cut off Rigsby, and held out her hand for Jane to shake, both holding on for longer than necessary. Pike shot daggers at Jane with his eyes when he saw this.

“Nice to meet you, Lisbon.” Jane smiled, “And you Rigsby and Van Pelt.”

“Nice to meet you as well Jane.” Lisbon replied, still feeling the memory of the warmth of his hand in her hand.

“Well, Van Pelt, let’s go find a spot to sit like you said.” Pike interrupted, but was looking at Lisbon.

“I’m gonna go now. See you around?” Lisbon asked Jane, turning her body towards her friends but not breaking eye contact with him.

“Yeah, go ahead. See you around.” Jane smiled watching Lisbon run back to her friends after a quick goodbye.

When Lisbon caught up to her friends, she noticed that there were some blankets laid out on the ground for them.

“So, Lisbon, Jane’s kinda cute, isn’t he?” Van Pelt knocked her shoulder with Lisbon’s playfully.

“What? I didn’t even notice.” Lisbon blushed.

“Yeah okay, if that helps you sleep better at night, Lisbon.” Hightower joked.

As the movie was going on Lisbon wasn’t really paying attention but thinking back to Jane, there was just something about him that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Once the movie was over and they got up to leave, she noticed that the blue Citroën was gone. Trying to hide her disappointment, she said bye to her friends and all went their separate ways.

~🛣️ 🎥~

Jane walks out of the tent that his father uses to give “psychic” readings to carnival visitors, defeated just wanting the day to be over. This morning he finally told his best friend Angela that he liked her more than friends and wanted to know if she wanted to go on a proper date with him that night, to which she replied that she thought of him like a brother but they could still hang out that night if he wanted. Jane just shook his head and continued talking and hanging out with her like he normally would, trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking in his chest. Now his dad just involved him in a con, tricking an old woman into buying a rock that would “heal” her terminal granddaughter. He hates these cons his dad involves him in and can’t wait until the day when he can finally leave the carnival and never look back. Jane stood outside the tent gently kicking around some rocks to take his mind off the horribleness of the day, wondering what it would be like to actually have a happy day and ending, not like the lies his dad tells the visitors.

“Did you hear the drive-in theater is opening back up this weekend?” Jane heard the voice of a girl at a distance.

“The one on main street? They are playing WALL-E, it’s a cute movie and I want to go just to experience the drive in.” he heard another girl's voice say.

“Me too! Ask John if he wants to go and we can go on a double date with me and Tyler.” the first girl insisted.

“I will! It will be a lot of fun.” the second one said with what sounded like a smile in her voice.

Jane thought that maybe watching a movie would end his terrible week on a good note. Although he has never seen the WALL-E movie, and doesn't know if it's a good movie, but if it can take his mind off of the week, he will watch it.

~

Once Jane found a good spot for his car he parked and headed to the concession stand to grab something to snack on. He decided on popcorn and a drink after seeing most people with that combination walking around.

“Yo Cho, check out this car.” Jane saw a brunette guy maybe around his age staring at his car, this not being the first time his car was admired. “This car is so cool.”

“Thanks, it’s a Citroën.” Jane smiled when he got a little closer, not sure what else he could say.

“How did you get this car?” a raven-haired guy asked with his eyes narrowed, his voice dripping in suspension.

“Ehh, that’s a long story.” Jane said not wanting to explain to complete strangers what he does on a daily basis. “The short story is a client gave me this car as payment.” Jane chuckled out the word payment, while setting down his popcorn and drink on the roof of his car.

“I think you just made Cho very suspicious of who you are and what you do.” a third guy cut in reaching out his hand for what Jane had to guess was a hand shake. “I’m Rigsby, that’s Cho and Pike. We go by our last names because we are going to be detectives one day and we are just trying to get used to it.” Rigsby explained while shaking Jane’s hand.

“Well, my last name is Jane if you want to call me that.” Jane replied.

“Rigs, do you want to find a spot somewhere, the movie is supposed to start soon…” a girl with red wavy hair ran up and threaded her left arm into Rigsby’s right arm while two other girls walked up behind her. “Oh, hi sorry, I’m Van Pelt.” she smiled, reaching out her right arm for a handshake that was returned by Jane.

“Hey guys this is Jane, he has this cool car. Jane, Van Pelt here is my beautiful girlfriend, and the girls are Hightower and-”

“Lisbon.” the most beautiful girl Jane has ever seen, said cutting off Rigsby, and holding out her hand for a shake which he took and held onto for longer than most handshakes, but he knew he wasn’t the only one holding too long. Jane noticed that the brunette guy, Pike, had a look of jealousy and envy looking at their hands.

“Nice to meet you, Lisbon.” Jane smiled, “And you Rigsby and Van Pelt.” Jane remembered other people were there, letting go of her hand.

“Nice to meet you as well Jane.” Lisbon replied, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“Well, Van Pelt, let’s go find a spot to sit like you said.” Pike interrupted the conversation, looking at Lisbon.

“I’m gonna go now. See you around?” Lisbon asked Jane, turning her body towards her friends but not breaking eye contact with him.

“Yeah, go ahead. See you around.” Jane smiled watching Lisbon run back to her friends after a quick goodbye.

‘Just earlier this week I was thinking all about Angela, but Lisbon… Wow.” Jane thought, getting into his car driver’s seat with the popcorn and his drink. Jane watched the movie considering just leaving the drive in when EVE left WALL-E, but the tears pooling in his eyes stopped him from actually leaving. When the movie was over, Jane was smiling, but he still had some tears left. As the credits were rolling, he did leave the theater, not wanting to chance seeing anyone in the state he was in.

~🛣️ 🎥~

Over the week Lisbon’s mind kept drifting off to that blue-eyed boy she met at the drive-in who introduced himself as Jane. Lisbon wanted to go to the drive-in again to see if Jane happened to be there, but both Van Pelt and Hightower were busy this weekend and couldn’t go, and Lisbon did not want to go with one of the guys, especially Pike. She eventually decided she could go by herself, she was 18 and almost out of high school, one time at a drive-in by herself isn’t going to kill her. She kept telling herself this every day up until the moment she was at the drive-in after being dropped off by Van Pelt after school on Friday. Luckily for Lisbon, she did see that blue car that made her know Jane had to be nearby. She walked up towards it and saw he was not in it or around it. Lisbon started walking to the stands in the back to sit down to watch the movie and that’s when she saw him.

“Hi Jane.” Lisbon smiled at him.

“Hi Lisbon.” Jane grinned, turning towards where Lisbon was standing, hitting his cup that was next to him and knocking it on the ground behind him. “Wow, I’ve really done it now huh? I’m sorry about this.” Jane reached behind him to pick up the now empty cup, tossing it into a nearby trash can.

“I don’t think you really care about that drink.” Lisbon joked, before asking. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jane gestures around him slightly.

“Would you like some company?” Lisbon asks, already shooing him more into the stands so she can sit next to him.

“Even though I made a complete fool of myself?” Jane moved over enough to give her space but still where it wouldn’t take much movement for their thighs to touch.

“Especially since you made a fool of yourself, Jane.” Lisbon never stopped smiling.

“Well, I guess I can be good company; if you’ll excuse me for dropping my drink. Would you like some popcorn?” Jane offered some popcorn her way which Lisbon accepted by taking a handful of popcorn.

“So Jane, how was your week?” Lisbon asked, trying to get to know Jane better, looking at his blue eyes.

“Well, I’m glad to be here and glad to see you here again.” Jane smiled, his gaze never leaving her. “Also, you can call me Patrick if you want, I know your friends have the thing with last names and I don’t want to intrude on that.”

“In that case, Hi Patrick, I’m Teresa.” Lisbon beamed, holding out her hand which Jane shook with a small squeeze.

“Hi Teresa.” Jane replied, causing Lisbon to feel happy inside. “Thank you for spending time with me, but if you want to go back to your friends, you can, I’m sure your boyfriend, Pike isn’t it, is waiting for you.” Jane shifted.

“Pike isn’t my boyfriend;” Lisbon chuckled, “and I came here by myself today.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I guess I misread him.” Jane replied happily with her response, “What’s his deal then?”

“No, I don’t think you misread him. He has asked me out multiple times, he’s a good guy, but not the guy.” Lisbon grabbed a few more pieces of Jane’s popcorn.

The rest of the movie Jane and Lisbon went from watching the movie to making jokes and comments to each other about the movie. When the credits were rolling Lisbon sighed, disappointed that she would now have to go home and deal with that .

“You can tell me if I am overstepping, but would you like to go get something to eat? I know a diner down the road that makes really good eggs.” Jane asked.

“You are not overstepping at all, I would love to go get something to eat with you, but I need to start heading home before it gets dark. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk home from here, and I don’t want my dad upset with me for staying out past the time I told him I would be out until.” Lisbon replied, despite what she was saying, wanted to spend the time with him.

“Okay.” Jane smiled a sad smile, “Can I drive you home so you don’t have to walk? I promise to drive the speed limit.”

“Okay, but next time I’ll buy the popcorn.” Lisbon replied, following Jane to his car.

Jane stopped and turned around facing her, “Next time?”

“Well, yeah.” Lisbon replied in a tone reflecting on that was obvious, not missing the smile on Jane’s face as she walked past him. They both got into his car and she gave him directions to her home.

Once in front of her house Lisbon unbuckled her seat belt but stayed in the seat. “I had a lot of fun this afternoon with you.”

“That’s lucky, because I had a really fun time with you as well.” Jane grinned, “I want to see you again if you would allow.”

“Of course, I do owe you popcorn after all.” Lisbon waved her hand, “What do you say about next Friday evening? The drive in?”

“It’s a date?” Jane questioned.

“It’s a date, Patrick.” Lisbon smiled, opening the passenger side door to get out of the car. “Oh, before I forget, if you want to text me before Friday, here’s my phone number.” Lisbon grabbed Jane’s hand and a pen out of her bag to write her phone number down. “I’ll catch you later.” This time Lisbon did get out of the car and walked to the door to her house when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Unknown: Just checking :) Oh, BTW this is Patrick

Lisbon looked back to see his car still parked in front of her driveway, so she waved at him, walking inside. She looked through the blinds of the windows at the front to see him driving away. She ducked her head to hide her blushing as she went upstairs to her bedroom getting ready for bed, but knowing she is not going to be going to sleep any time soon. Lisbon turned on her TV for just some mindless background noise thinking about how she just grabbed his hand and he didn’t even flinch, when her phone vibrated on her night stand.

(Patrick) Jane: Thank you for keeping me company earlier, you made the movie much better.

Me: thank you for letting me join you and steal your popcorn xD

(Patrick) Jane: You can steal my popcorn anytime you want.

Me: that sounds like a plan

(Patrick) Jane: That does sound like a great plan. Have a goodnight Teresa :D

Me: goodnight patrick :D

~🛣️ 🎥~

The next Friday when Lisbon got to the theater and she didn’t see that blue car parked anywhere, she was worried. Before leaving school for the day, Jane had texted her that he would see her soon, which Lisbon replied saying that she couldn’t wait. Now she stood there, knowing she might be a little early, but really hoping to see that car.

‘ i’m here whenever you get here. ’ Lisbon texted Jane not expecting a text back if he was driving. Lisbon went to take a seat at the stands in the back and absently scrolled through her phone until choosing to rearrange the apps on her phone to pass time. As more and more people were arriving, Lisbon started to feel more defeated, she didn’t know if this was a date or not, but it sure felt like she had gotten stood up. Lisbon checked her messages and nothing, she sighed and decided that she would watch the movie since she was there already. About ten minutes into the movie her phone vibrated with a message from Jane.

(Patrick) Jane: Hey, I’m sorry, something came up, but I am headed up there right now. Are you still there?

Lisbon contemplated if she should reply or not, upset that he wasn’t there, but relieved that he texted her back.

Me: yes, i am still here. are you okay?

(Patrick) Jane: I think I will be once I see you. Give me 10 minutes please. :)

Lisbon’s heart felt like it skipped a beat, he wanted to see her too, but he obviously isn’t okay and she is a little worried. Sure she has only known Jane for barely two weeks, but she does care about him. Lost in her thoughts she barely noticed when she got a new text message.

(Patrick) Jane: I am here in the back viewing row if you want to join me in the car.

Lisbon walked behind the stands to the car viewing row and when she spotted his car, walked over and lightly knocked on the door, while Jane was already reaching over to unlock and open the door from the inside. “Hey.” Jane whispered, as Lisbon shut the car door.

“Hey.” Lisbon whispered back.

“It’s good to see you.” Jane breathed slightly over a whisper.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Lisbon asked aloud this time.

“It was a bad day today. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but it wasn’t good.” Jane sighed.

Lisbon reached over the center console and held his hand, “You won’t bore me with any details. I care about you Jane, let me know what I can do to help.”

Jane sighed and rested his head on her shoulder, squeezing her hand a little more, “My dad is not a good person, and working with him gets harder every day. I just want to leave but I can’t leave them all, they are my family. You know?”

Lisbon shook her head, she didn’t know what he was talking about, but related to the part where he said that his dad is not a good person. “I’m not sure I understand in a whole, but my dad too, he’s not very nice.”

Jane looked up at Lisbon, not removing his head from her shoulder, “Your dad hurts you? I’m sorry Teresa. I shouldn’t be acting like this over my small problem.” Jane shook his head.

“Hey,” Lisbon grabbed Jane’s face, her hands on either cheek, “It’s fine, well it’s not fine, but it doesn’t matter what size problem you have, you can tell me and I’ll be there for you.” 

Jane leaned into her touch and chuckled, “This is a lot for a first date…” 

Lisbon froze for a moment. ‘ Is this still a date?’

“Oh, is this not a date? I read this all wrong.” Jane shook his head, “I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed and used your shoulder as a pillow. I am so, so, sorry Lisbon.”

“Hey,” Lisbon whispered again, causing Jane to look up at her eyes. “I just wasn’t sure if this was a date or not, but I’m happy that you thought it was. And you didn’t do anything wrong, if you want to rest your head on me again you can.” Lisbon smiled and moved her thumbs along his cheeks. 

Jane chuckled again, “Maybe later, I’ll tell you the long story, but the short story is I grew up and still live with the carnival. My dad likes to use me to con innocent people, and I am sick and tired of it.” Jane put his hands over Lisbon’s hands, bringing them to rest in between the both of them. 

“My dad started drinking when my mom died, and likes to yell at me and my younger brothers. So, to answer your question, my dad doesn’t hurt me, no.” Lisbon replied. “If he hurts your feelings, that’s still hurting you.” Jane replied. “Did you want to watch the movie, or do you want to go get something to eat? I still have to get you to try those eggs at the diner.” Jane asked, trying to change the subject.

“I believe I still owe you a bag of popcorn.” Lisbon smirked, accepting the change in conversation. 

“How about next time you get us some popcorn?” Jane asked.

“Next time? Mr. Confident over here.” Lisbon joked.

“Well, if you want there to be a next time… My answer is yes if you want to ask me.” Jane joked with less confidence. 

“Jane of course, I’ll get us popcorn next time.” Lisbon smiled, “Also, yes, let’s get something to eat, please.” 

Both Lisbon and Jane buckled their seatbelts, while Jane put the car in reverse and left the drive-in to head to the diner.

~

“So, you and that Jane guy have had like seven dates already, is he your boyfriend now?” Van Pelt asked Lisbon, sitting down at the lunch table.

“What?! No!” Lisbon blushed, “He hasn’t asked me yet…”

“Wait, that guy with the car?” Pike interrupted, “That’s not the kind of guy you want.”

“Marcus, you don’t know what kind of guy she wants.” Van Pelt argued.

“You’ve been on seven dates, he is your boyfriend.” Cho stated.

“Plus, you told me that you hold hands and cuddle up on each other.” Van Pelt started.

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t tell you that for you to tell everyone else!” Lisbon stopped Van Pelt.

“Yep. Boyfriend.” Cho stated again, taking a bite of his apple.

Van Pelt smiled at Lisbon, “See he is your boyfriend, just admit it to yourself.”

“Well, I would like for him to be my boyfriend, but as of right now he’s just a guy I talk to. Besides, now is not the time to get serious, I’ll be leaving for college in a few months, I can’t expect anything to happen there.” Lisbon signed defeatedly.

“Why don’t you just ask him and see what he wants?” Van Pelt asked.

“Yeah, you’re right, I will do that.” Lisbon answered. 

~

Jane and Lisbon sat at the table at the diner they had started to become regulars at. Jane was pushing his eggs back and forth, not really eating it.

“Hey, Jane, what are you thinking about?” Lisbon put her hand lightly on top of his hand that was pushing the fork.

“Just thinking.” Jane barely smiled.

“What are you thinking about?” Lisbon pushed.

Jane ran his fingers through his hair, “I- I don’t want to ruin anything, but maybe? Teresa, would you want to maybe be my girlfriend? It’s okay if you don’t-”

“Patrick.” Lisbon cut him off, “Am I not already?” Lisbon joked, echoing a joke he had made to her several weeks prior.

“Well, aren’t you Miss Confidence?” Jane completed her joke.

“Maybe a little bit.” Lisbon smiled using her fork to pick up a piece of egg off his plate and ate it. ”But yes, to answer your question. If I’m not already, I would like to be your girlfriend.”

Jane breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, “That’s lucky.”

~

Jane made his normal drive to Lisbon’s house to drop her off after they finished their meal, but this time there was something different, a man sitting on the bench on the front porch. The sun was beginning to set so Lisbon knew she didn’t go out past her curfew. “Jane, my dad can be a lot, so if you want to drop me off and drive off-” Lisbon quickly explained unbuckling about to open the door to the car.

“Teresa. House. Now.” Lisbon’s dad suddenly appeared. 

“I’ll text you.” Lisbon whispered before running up the driveway and into the house, peeking out the window blinds. 

“And who are you?” Mr. Lisbon bellowed at Jane.

“My name is Patrick Jane, sir.” Jane replied weakly.

“And what are your intentions with my daughter?” Mr. Lisbon leaned down to make eye contact with Jane.

“I don’t have any plans, just to be her friend first, and love her unconditionally. See where life takes us together.” Jane smiled, slightly embarrassed. 

“She’s 18, she doesn’t know what love is, she’s not allowed to have any boyfriend, she needs to take care of her brothers.” Mr. Lisbon scoffed. 

“Respectfully sir, I believe that is her choice to make.” Jane contradicted.

“Lose her number, and don’t speak to her again.” Mr. Lisbon stated before walking back into the house.

“Teresa, get in here now.” Mr. Lisbon yelled up the stairs.

Lisbon quickly ran down the stairs, hearing her little brother saying ‘someone’s in trouble’, and shooting him a glare.

“You need to be here for your little brothers, not messing around with some boy you just met. Delete his number before I delete it for you. Now go back to your room, I don’t want to see you for the rest of the night.” Mr. Lisbon demanded, without getting her a chance to speak, heading to the fridge to presumably grab a new beer.

Lisbon ran upstairs and closed her door with a little too much force, cringing, hoping her dad wasn’t about to yell at her for ‘disrespecting his house’. After a couple of minutes, when her dad had not come up the stairs, she breathed out and looked at her phone, unsure of her next move. When the screen lit up with a notification, she guessed her decision was made for her.

(Patrick) Jane: I don’t think your dad likes me very much.I like you very much though.I understand if you want me to delete your number, like your dad told me to.But I don’t want to, but I will if you tell me to.

Lisbon was mad that her dad told Jane what to do, she was sad that he even considered the thought that she would stop talking to him just because her dad said so. Overall, she was happy that Jane told her he likes her a lot.

Me: i like you very much too Patrick :)

and i don’t want to stop talking to you

don’t even think that for one moment

Lisbon stopped typing for a moment considering if she really wanted to send the next text message or not.

Me: i’m sorry you had to witness his behavior

(Patrick) Jane: I’m sorry I can’t be holding you right now.Or sitting next to you, whichever you are more comfortable with.

Me: i think i would love a hug from you right now.

(Patrick) Jane: I can be back at yours in less than 20 minutes. Just tell me which window I need to climb through.

Me: haha jane

(Patrick) Jane: No, really Lisbon.

Me: i’m not going to sneak a boy into my room when my dad is already mad at me

(Patrick) Jane: Would you like to come to the carnival next Friday? I can teach you all the tricks to win. You can bring your little brothers if you want. Or your friends, I’m sure Rigsby might like to win a giant stuffy for Grace.Only if you want to though.

Me: trying to make good with my siblings and my friends to get the stamp of approval?

(Patrick) Jane: Maybe :DBut also looking for a reason to see you more.

Me: i’ll ask grace at school on monday.it’s getting late, i’m gonna go to bed, i had a fun evening, sorry it ended the way it did.

(Patrick) Jane: It’s okay, I had fun too. Have a good night, Teresa 

Me: goodnight patrick 

~

“Van Pelt, how would you and Rigsby like to go on a double date to the carnival on Friday?” Lisbon asked Van Pelt as she was pulling books from her locker.

“What’s at the carnival?” Van Pelt replied, shutting her locker door and walking to their next class.

“Jane asked me if I wanted to go, and make it a double date. He met my dad on Friday.” Lisbon finished when she saw Van Pelt raise her eyebrows at the initial statement. “How was your dad?” Van Pelt sighed, not having a good experience with Lisbon’s dad herself.

“He was probably three drinks in. He told Jane that I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend and I needed to take care of my brothers first.” Lisbon answered.

“So, everyone says he’s your boyfriend except for you.” Van Pelt paused her walking.

“For your information, Jane only asked me Friday, before he met my dad. When my dad told him that, Jane and I were only official for like 2 hours.” Lisbon defended.

Van Pelt squealed in excitement and continued walking, “I’m happy for you Teresa, I’m sure Rigsby would love to go on a double date on Friday.” 

“Awesome, I will let Jane know.” Teresa smiled as they walked into their classroom.

~

Lisbon steps out of the back seat of Van Pelt’s car already looking for where Jane might be, sending him a quick here :) text. 

“Where did Jane tell you to meet him?” Rigsby asked Lisbon, getting out of the passenger seat of the car and stretching his legs exaggeratingly, getting a small chuckle out of Van Pelt. 

As if on cue, Jane was walking up to them, grabbing Lisbon’s hand when he reached her. “How are you my dear?” Jane asked, squeezing Lisbon’s hand.

“I’m good.” Lisbon blushed, from the endearment. Jane gave her a smile in return.

“Van Pelt and Rigsby! Nice to see you again. Is there anywhere special you would like to see here? I can tell you the tricks to win every one of these booths if you want.” Jane said, guiding them into the gates out of the parking lot. 

“What about that balloon dart game? Why do the balloons not pop?” Van Pelt asked.

“Easy, they put a balloon inside of another before airing them up and half the darts aren’t sharp enough to pop them.” Jane replied.

“The game where you have to shoot the bottles as they move?” Rigsby piped in.

“The guns are slightly pulling to the right, so you need to shoot just before you think you should.” Jane answered.

The group continued asking questions about different booths before Rigsby decided he wanted to test Jane’s theory and see if the rifles did shoot a little to the right. Rigsby quickly found out they did, adjusted his aim a little, and ended up getting every bottle and winning a top shelf stuffy for Van Pelt, much to the booth keeper’s dismay.

Rigsby and Van Pelt decided they wanted to go into the Fun House and Lisbon would rather not do that, she would much rather just walk around through the different tents and booths, and enjoying her time with Jane.

As they were walking past one of the tents, a man’s voice interrupted their mindless chatter, “Patrick. What are you doing?” 

“Dad?” Jane turned around to face the voice, “I’m hanging out with my… friend. Showing her around and-”

“Why aren’t you here making us money?” Mr. Jane questioned.

“Because I don’t want to.” The younger Jane shrugged.

“Patrick Jane, I am not going to ask you, but tell you, to get into the tent and make me money.” Mr. Jane stared at Patrick.

“No, I don’t want to be a con man for the rest of my life.” Jane said sternly.

“Is it this girl here telling you that? You don’t need a girlfriend if they are just going to tell you what you can and cannot do.” The elder Jane asked pointing towards Lisbon.

“Nobody told me to say anything. I decided I don’t want to be pushed around anymore by you, and I don’t want you making decisions for me anymore either.” Jane exclaimed before he  quickly took Lisbon’s hand and ran off, hearing curses from his father, knowing tonight was not going to be fun, thinking he may just sleep in his car tonight.

Jane led them to an area behind the Ferris wheel where no patrons would go, where there was a bench and table. He slowed them down and sat down pulling Lisbon’s hand lightly to convince her to sit next to him. 

“So that was my dad.” Jane chuckled full of awkwardness. 

Lisbon sighed, “Our dad’s both don’t want us dating each other - nice.” 

“Do we need their permission?” Jane took Lisbon’s hand.

“Nope.” Lisbon started, “There’s been something I wanted to ask you; you don’t have to say yes. And there’s never a good time to ask, but I’m running out of time.” Lisbon squeezed Jane’s hand. “Patrick Jane, would you like to go to prom with me?

Jane let out a chuckle, “That is not where I thought you were going with that, but yes. I would love to go to prom with you, when is it?”

“It’s on Saturday. Yes, this Saturday.” Lisbon replied, “I told you I was running out of time, you can still say no if-”

“I’m not going to change my mind.” Jane smiled, “Can I ask you a question too?”

“Of course, Jane, you can ask me anything.” Lisbon replied

“Can I kiss you?” Jane asked. Lisbon answered by kissing Jane, hesitantly at first, but found the rhythm of his lips shortly. 

“Wow.” Jane breathed, breaking away resting his forehead on Lisbon’s forehead.

“‘Wow’, is right.” Lisbon smiled. “Should we go find Van Pelt and Rigsby?”

“Nah.” Jane put his index finger under Lisbon’s chin to lift it, while capturing her lips in his again.

After several minutes of enjoying kissing each other, Lisbon put her hands on Jane’s chest and pushed him back a little before whispering, “I think we should stop for now. I don’t want to, but I think we should.” 

“I think you’re right. However,” Jane paused and gave Lisbon another light kiss, “ now we’re done.”

~

“When are the guys supposed to be here?” Lisbon asked Van Pelt as they were finishing up their prom makeup.

“They should be here very soon, if not right now.” Van Pelt replied. “I’m done, what about you, want to go wait in the living room for the guys?”

“Yeah. let’s go do that.” Lisbon replied, already walking out of Van Pelt’s room down the stairs that led to the living area, both seeing the guys right away. 

“Wow.” Both Jane and Rigsby said at the same time. 

“You look absolutely beautiful Teresa.” Jane breathed, holding out his arms to grab Lisbon’s hand and planting a light kiss on it. 

“Thank you, Patrick. You look absolutely beautiful as well.” Lisbon smiled.

After complimenting each other, the four friends got into Patrick’s Citroën and headed out to the venue that was hosting the prom, and enjoyed the rest of the evening together.

~🛣️ 🎥~

“Do you want to go on a walk? One last walk around the neighborhood before you leave for college?” Jane asked Lisbon after loading the last box she had into her SUV, shutting the rear-hatch.

“Jane, I’m moving one town over, I will probably come back to see my siblings a couple of times a month. I don’t need to see everything in the neighborhood I grew up in again. Plus, I’m tired.” Lisbon sighed.

“Just a short walk?” Jane pleaded with the eyes that Lisbon couldn’t say no to.

“Fine. No more than ten minutes.” Lisbon bargained.

“Deal.” Jane smiled, grabbing Lisbon’s hand. They walked in the direction towards the end of her street for a few minutes, before turning back around. “Before we get back, I just wanted to let you know something, you are not obligated to say anything back, I just wanted to let you know… I love you, Teresa.”

“That’s lucky, cause I love you too, Patrick.” Lisbon squeezed Jane’s hand that was in her hand. “Now what do you say we get to heading over to the apartment, you can help me unpack, and I’ll drive you back home tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me to spend the night, Lisbon?” Jane cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you don't mind sleeping on couches, and I’m too tired to drive anymore after we get there today.” Lisbon poked her tongue out at Jane in a joking manner, jogging the rest of the way to her car pulling Jane with her.

~

“Can I ask you a crazy question?” Jane asked Lisbon while sitting on the couch in the apartment Lisbon and Van Pelt are renting during their freshman year of college. 

“How crazy?” Lisbon raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe a little?” Jane questioned.

“Well, I’ll say yes, just because I’m curious about what is going on in that head of yours.” Lisbon chuckled, pointing at his forehead.

“Do you want to get married?” Jane asked, turning his full body to Lisbon, watching her cough as if she choked on air.

“Are you serious?” Lisbon squeaked between trying to catch her breath.

“Well yeah. Not now though, that would be crazy, but like some day?” Jane replied.

“Wait here for a moment.” Lisbon told Jane, avoiding the question.

' I knew it was a crazy question. I should not have said anything. She’s going to tell me to leave. ’ Jane thought.

“Here.” Lisbon started, holding out her class ring from high school, startling Jane as he didn’t know she was there. “Yes, one day in the future I will marry you.” Lisbon smiled, slipping her ring onto Jane’s pinky finger.

“Wow. Did you just give me a promise ring Lisbon?” Jane half-joked.

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Lisbon breathed, still smiling.

“I love it, and I love you, Teresa.” Jane said, leaning in to kiss Lisbon.

~~~

i had this in my drafts mostly written since oct 2022, just wrote the last scene in january of this year 🫠. if i missed any tw/cw, please let me know and i'll fix it. thanks for reading!

[feministjane]

Decided to be brave and post my first Mentalist fic 🫣

[stuartprincess]

tfw hyperfixated on a show with next to no fandom that ended eight years ago 😩😩

[someonesaidcake]

Episode 7x12 | Brown Shag Carpet

From the Ground Up | Part 1 | Read on AO3

... excerpt below ...

It felt like hours before they let her into his room, although she knew it had been less than thirty minutes. Time stretched unbearably while her mind replayed through every worst-case scenario it could conjure.

They’d told her the injuries weren’t life-threatening: a fractured rib that would bruise over the next few days, a ruptured eardrum, bruised lungs, a contusion on his forehead, either from the crash or the explosion, and some minor scrapes. Smoke had irritated his eyes, but that was the least of it.

“Hi.” His voice greeted her first as she stepped inside. She could hear the strain in his voice, soft and tight.

She closed the door behind her, pausing for a moment to take him in. He was sitting up in bed, his face a little pale and his eyes faintly bloodshot but unmistakably alive. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in a hospital bed, and the memory of previous times hit her with a visceral force. She remembered the tight, desperate knots in her stomach, the overwhelming need to touch him, to pepper his face with kisses, and bury her face in his neck just to feel the steady beat of his pulse and inhale the familiar scent of his skin.

The difference was, this time, she could.

“Hi,” she replied, her voice low and shaky as she crossed the room in quick, determined steps. Two, maybe three, and she was at his bedside.

“Do you want some water?” she asked, her tone fractured and foreign, still rough from the smoke that had clawed at her throat.

The damage to her throat was minor; nothing a few days of fluids and avoiding spicy food wouldn’t fix. But, in truth, every thought she had was focused on him.

The first tear slipped free without warning, and then there was no stopping them as they streamed down her face, unchecked and relentless, like a crazy person.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His hand squeezed hers as his thumb gently brushed over her knuckles. “Teresa, I’m okay.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. They were dry and cracked, but beneath that, they were still perfectly formed; still his.

“Told you you’d always find me,” he whispered, their lips barely apart.

Her breath hitched as she placed three delicate kisses along the edges of his smile. “I’d prefer not to need to,” she sighed, her voice breaking with both relief and affection.

...

Read the full chapter on AO3 here xx

[rollforjackass]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Mentalist Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Kimball Cho & Patrick Jane Characters: Kimball Cho, Patrick Jane Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Season/Series 04, Chronic Pain, Drug Addiction, technically post-drug addiction, non-graphic and not onscreen Series: Part 2 of Bleeding Hearts

Patrick Jane is many things to many people. To Kimball Cho, he's a quick learner.

When Cho comes back from lunch, other than the crunch of poorly-thrown popcorn under his heels, it’s quiet in the CBI bullpen.

Too quiet.

Rigsby, he knows, is off running a lead, since Lisbon had caught him at his sea lion snack time routine and reamed him out into guilty flight; Cho can only assume Van Pelt is with him, since she rarely leaves the office otherwise. He only feels a little bad for counting their absence as a blessing; so rarely does he get to have the office all to himself, without having to navigate the precarious emotional ledge that is a broken-up couple casting longing glances at each other over his shoulder. Plus, Van Pelt deserves more field time: she’s a good agent with a keen eye, and redirecting her budding anger issues towards people who actually should be taken down a few pegs is far from a bad thing.

The problem, and the source of the very loud silence, is that the couch in the corner of the bullpen is suspiciously vacant.

His first thought is that Jane must have finally passed out from exhaustion in the attic. Then he’s forced to consider the possibility that Jane is awake, and he’s simply not here. Which is a lot worse, because only God and Jane know what the hell he’s up to when he’s not here.

The good news there is that Lisbon is still in her office, which means that in terms of seniority, Cho isn’t the one currently responsible for Jane’s whereabouts, and therefore for Jane’s shenanigans. The bad news is that if Lisbon’s in the office and Jane’s getting up to something without her, it’s going to be something grandly and profoundly ridiculous, possibly lawsuit-provoking.

Maybe he should check the attic. Just for peace of mind.

Cho’s not a worrier by nature. His teammates are adults and well-trained, they can handle themselves in the field; all he has to do is watch their backs and stay on guard for the worst-case scenario, because Murphy’s Law is a bitch and can’t ever be repealed. For years now, the maximum threshold of his concern has been Rigsby’s hot-headed streak, and that can be easily quelled through some inane form of office competition, like seeing how many M&Ms he can catch in his mouth before he chokes.

But then there’s Patrick Jane, who, before they’d even worked three cases together, had managed to shot-put himself over Cho’s worry threshold and into orbit.

Jane makes him a worrier. Jane stumbles into danger like a foal trying to walk for the first time, pokes at suspects with all the delicacy of a cattle prod, and takes a punch like wet newspaper. Jane will haul them into harebrained schemes without a single warning of the risks involved, and expects them to be happy with the results no matter how they came about. Jane is careless, thoughtless, and in every sense of the word, a liability.

The others are more lenient with him, not unaware of the danger he poses but respectful of his instincts, pitying the situation that brought him to them. The others forgive him fast, even when they’re exasperated, even when he almost costs them their jobs. Cho refuses to cut him that kind of a break. Tragic figure or cunning con man, Jane is an adult just like the rest of them, more than capable of learning about the parts of their world that he was never built for, and Jane needs to get his shit together.

If he doesn’t, Jane might get one of them killed someday. Cho can’t abide by that.

(Jane also sleeps very little, and rarely restfully. Jane has exactly one pair of shoes that Cho has ever seen, and wrinkles in his suit jackets that match the ones around his eyes. Jane flinches from cameras and doesn’t watch cable talk shows, avoids victims’ families before they can thank him for bringing them justice. Jane has no life outside the CBI, no home any closer than Malibu, no regard for his own life, no goals outside of raining hell down on Red John with his own two hands.

Jane might get himself killed someday. Jane is going to get himself killed someday.

Cho can’t abide by that, either.)

For at least partial credit, Jane has learned, over the years; learned what lines to toe instead of cross, learned how much he can safely meddle before he puts them in harm’s way or costs them their jobs, learned there are some things that the team just doesn’t talk about and that are better left alone, like Lisbon’s childhood and Cho’s gang time and Rigsby’s father and Van Pelt’s faith.

But he’s also learned how to manipulate them better, how to argue his case and coax them into unscrupulous tactics that, if he weren’t so damn smart, would get their cases thrown out of court in a second. Worse still, he’s learned how to work around them, spinning webs in places they’ll never see until after he’s caught his prey.

Meanwhile Cho’s learned, for his part, that there’s very little point in trying to change Jane’s mind, as he’s watched Lisbon attempt over and over and over again; the most a logical argument does is delay him, the most a physical restraint does is speed up his timetable. Jane is relentless when he tracks a killer, unswayed by things like politeness and legality — when Red John’s involved, it’s worse.

Everyone in the CBI knows that Jane is a fixed point beneath a moral pendulum, with the blade up against his neck. Everybody knows that worrying about someone who will never change their ways is a waste of energy and time.

But giving up has never been Cho’s strong suit.

So he just tries to stay present, as much as Jane will allow — close enough to watch the magician’s hands. He establishes himself as one of Jane’s go-to guinea pigs, never questioning his complicated plans, because the more he’s involved, the less he has to worry about. He rephrases irksome commentary into more constructive forms of questioning. He shepherds Jane’s flights of fancy and shows up with his service weapon when Jane’s in over his head.

Sometimes he goes outside the lines and gets his hands dirty, because he’s not someone naive enough to think that the legal system’s perfect enough to hold people like Red John, people like Jane. He’s learned that if he gets them dirty enough, it’ll force Jane to reach up and stop the pendulum, to be the better person for a change, because the only thing Jane cares about more than his quest for revenge is the team.

For the most part, it feels like he’s doing something to keep Jane in check, even if in the next day or week or month he’ll go spinning off again.

Still, the fact remains that since Cho’s not (currently) involved, whatever Jane may or may not be up to is not his problem right now.

His problem, right now, is that his back is killing him, a deep throbbing ache that’s hooked itself down low around the base of his spine like tangled fishing line. No matter how he shifts, there’s no escaping it. He should be relieved that today’s a paperwork day, no running and chasing to be done that could make it worse, but at least the exercise would be a distraction. Better than having to sit here and take it.

Inevitably, his eyes stray to the front drawer of his desk. The prescription bottle there is empty, has been since he fell asleep on the job in a painkiller-haze, but the temptation never wanes.

He could call the number and get a refill whenever he wanted. He could do it today, even, be rid of the strain by the time he goes to sleep.

He opens the drawer and picks up the bottle. He turns it over in his hand, slowly, stares hard at the label until the words on it stop making sense.

And tomorrow, someone could get shot because he was too slow, not present, complacent. A single lapse, no matter how small, means he could get someone killed.

His back spasms painfully. He snaps his gaze away, frustrated.

It lands on the empty couch. The oh-so-comfortable, oh-so-inviting, oh-so-empty couch.

Screw it.

He shoves the empty pill bottle into his pocket, stands stiffly — ignoring the immediate twinge in his spine — and walks decisively into Jane’s corner of the bullpen.

When he’d first joined them, it had taken some time for Jane to catch up to the office worker’s tradition of decorating his space. As time and successfully closed cases had sanded down some of his more jagged edges, he’d first grown into it, then expanded like a mushroom cloud, until the signs of his perpetual existence — sudoku books, origami creatures, newspaper clippings — were tucked away like scavenger hunt clues on everybody else’s desks. His own desk is still all but barren, and the walls noticeably lack any personal touches like photographs and framed degrees, but when Jane is seated on the couch with a cup of tea and one leg casually crossed over the other, it still feels like stepping into an office, into a whole other world.

'The Jane Effect', Rigsby calls it, sometimes in awe and sometimes bitter; the barest minimum of set dressing, and the man could make the rest of the room disappear.

The leather couch has started to sag on the right-hand side where Jane usually sits, a miniature nuclear shadow. Cho tugs one of the back cushions out of place and props it up against the armrest, patting it down into a firmer, less-dented shape before lowering himself down and leaning back.

The angle is incredible. He rolls his shoulders, feeling something click and loosen in his lower back, and instantly tension dissipates up his spine, relieving the gathering storm of a headache that had begun to accumulate at the base of his skull; he groans softly, gratefully, letting his eyes slide closed as he sinks into the feeling of full-body relief.

He should see another doctor. Maybe a chiropractor. It can’t be normal that jumping on a suspect makes him walk funny for a full day afterwards. It can’t be normal that it’s been this long since he got hit by that car and he still needs the pain pills as often as he does.

But hell, he doesn’t have to think that hard about it right now. It’s a paperwork day. Jane’s not here.

He has some time to enjoy this.

-

The feeling of being watched draws him out of a light doze. So does the scent of chamomile.

“Where have you been?” he says without opening his eyes.

“Kimball Cho, right out the gate with the third degree,” comes the amused response. “You’re like a parent staying up on prom night. Was there a curfew I didn’t know about?”

“For you, there should be.”

“Hm.” There’s a clink of ceramic, then a contemplative sigh. “Well, I’d kick up my feet and tell you where I was, only you’re in my seat.”

Cho doesn’t budge. “Pull up a chair. Mine’s free.”

There’s a pause. It’s always funny when Jane doesn’t get his way, because he’s so unused to it. “I prefer the couch.”

Cho opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. “Your preference is noted. If you’re so desperate for one, you have Lisbon’s couch.”

“Ah, no, Lisbon has Lisbon’s couch, right now. You know she gets about as little sleep as I do?” Jane fakes a yawn for emphasis. It’s exaggerated, shows all the way to the back teeth. It’s loud.

“She loses sleep wondering when the next call from or about you is going to come,” Cho shoots back. “Your fault, your problem.”

There’s an indignant little huff, but Jane doesn’t have much of a comeback for that. “You know, I could just sit on you.”

Cho looks at him.

“…Kidding. Okay, I’ll just wait here, then.” Jane bounces on his toes to demonstrate, smiling indulgently. Like a parent counting to three, one who knows their kid will give in by two. “In your own time, Cho, in your own time.”

Cho stares at him a second longer, then turns his face to the ceiling and closes his eyes.

The sound of someone obnoxiously slurping their tea begins.

It would be so easy to ignore him. Not really, because Jane is clearly planning to make himself impossible to ignore — easy enough, considering his default setting is supremely annoying — but Cho’s had plenty of practice pretending not to hear or care.

Unfortunately, all that time he’s had to practice means he knows that Jane will stand there for as long as it takes to prove his point. All day, if he has to. Probably until he passes out.

Filling out an incident report because Jane hit his head on his desk playing chicken over a couch would be a hassle he doesn’t need right now.

Plus, there’s something genuinely, intangibly off-putting about Jane hovering over him, and not just because it fills him with the same paranoia as a kid trying not to fall asleep first at a sleepover. Jane’s not supposed to hover, he’s supposed to look at home, at ease, an element of certainty in every situation. Knowing he’s just standing there right now reminds Cho of the morning after Minnelli had cleared him to get the Red John files: Jane in his rumpled-looking suit and untucked shirt, trying his best to stay out of people’s ways and bumping into everyone else instead; looking lost, like someone had set him down for a minute and forgot to pick him back up again.

He really tries not to be soft on Jane the way the rest of the team are. Somebody needs to make sure Jane feels the consequences of his actions, not just knows or understands, because Jane is capable of knowing a lot of things and never caring a whit about any of them. But the Jane who can only really sleep on the couch or in the car, who has damn good reasons for never lowering his guard anywhere else, does have his sympathy.

Besides, the longer that stack of paperwork sits on his desk, the bigger it’ll get. It’s magic that way.

So, with a silent, long-suffering sigh, Cho swings his legs over and pushes up to get off the couch.

His back seizes.

It’s a hot, sharp stab like a rattlesnake bite, and just as paralyzing — all at once he’s frozen in his half-up half-down position, struggling against invisible iron bands holding his muscles in place like tight coils of cable.

Dimly he’s aware of Jane getting much closer, saying something, a hand at his elbow and the other between his shoulder blades, easing him upright until the snarled-up mass at the small of his back has loosened and he can suck in air again, bracing his hands against his knees and breathing through the pain.

Jane’s crouched in front of him by the time his swimming vision clears, looking up into his face with concern written in the lines around his eyes. The hand at his elbow squeezes firmly, not tightly, brief pulses in an odd, gentle rhythm. “Steady now. Come on back.”

“I’m fine,” Cho says automatically, breathlessly.

Jane breaks out in a smile, tilting his head. “When you’re fine, you’re a much better liar than that.”

There’s no reason to reply to that, so Cho doesn’t bother.

Jane doesn’t push, just continues to look at him; in a way, that’s worse, because Cho has never been completely convinced that Jane can’t actually read minds. Eventually, Jane clicks his tongue against his teeth and nods to himself, which does nothing to lessen Cho’s irrational belief. “Your back’s still bothering you. You’re worried that if you let on, Lisbon will bench you.”

“You’re making things up,” Cho denies, pointlessly.

Jane shrugs, unfazed. “You’re right, of course, she’d read you the riot act if she found out you’ve been keeping it from her all this time. But come on, what would be the harm in a few days off?”

“I don’t need a few days off. Criminals don’t take a few days off.”

Jane raises a finger. “They do if they’re economical with their time.”

Cho takes a deep breath to reply, only to let it out in a hiss when another crackle of pain courses up his spine. The smug look on Jane’s face fades back into concern – more like sympathy at this point – and Cho feels such a distant discomfort at the prospect of being babied that it prompts him to say, “It’s nothing. I can handle it.”

“Well, sure, you can handle it,” Jane replies, sounding bewildered. “But you don’t have to. More importantly, you don’t have to handle it while you run around tackling bad guys. I can’t imagine that’s great for long-term recovery.”

Like you’re one to talk. Cho holds that one back, slips it under his tongue to dissolve like the bitter pill it is. The thought reminds him of his usual solution to pain management, though, and he’s reaching for the bottle in his pocket before he’s thought it all the way through, before he even remembers that it’s empty –

– and it’s not there.

The flash of panic makes him feel guilty, then angry. He pats both pockets to be sure, then the couch cushions: no dice. It must have fallen out when he lay down, maybe rolled across the floor; a cursory glance around tells him it didn’t end up anywhere obvious, which is both a blessing and a curse. Under the couch, then, or under a desk…

“What are you looking for?”

…or in Jane’s hand, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off of orange plastic.

“I saw one in your car a while back, but I didn’t think you still needed them,” Jane continues, turning the bottle to squint at the label. His eyes go wide at the dosage and he whistles, impressed. “Phew, and you’re still in pain? You know, you can build up a hell of a tolerance to these things, you should talk to your doctor about switching up your treatment if it’s not helping you anymore.”

Cho bites his tongue and makes a swipe for the bottle. Jane’s quick as a cat, and swings his hand out of reach.

He doesn’t mean anything by it, the rational little voice inside his head reminds him. He’s just being Jane, he’s curious and he thinks it’s funny. If he wanted to mess with you, he’d be looking for your reaction, not reading the label.

He has no idea what he’s talking about, the less rational little voice inside his head whispers back. This shouldn’t be a surprise to him, he’d have noticed you were still in pain weeks ago if he ever looked further than his own damn nose.

He’s being an ass, both voices agree.

“Normally, I’d offer to hypnotize the pain away if modern medicine isn’t doing anything for you, but the way you keep getting hit by cars and throwing people around, I fear you’d wind up quite happily paralyzed in under a year.” Jane dangles the pill bottle between two fingers, absently swinging it back and forth like a pendulum. “I give a mean deep tissue massage, though, if you’re interested. Sure beats falling asleep on the job, I mean, these things always spin me around like a prize fighter in the ring when I take them –”

“Stop talking,” Cho snaps, and immediately recognizes his mistake when Jane’s eyes flick up to his and hold there, unwavering. Emotions flicker through them like skipping TV channels: surprise, hurt, reproach. Wariness.

He takes a deep breath to compose himself before reaching for the painkillers again, slowly this time. Jane lets him take them. He doesn’t say a word.

Cho stuffs the bottle back into his pocket, feeling absurdly exposed. He should throw it away, just to prove to Jane that he can. Hell, he could just peel the label off. But for some reason, he can’t quite bring himself to do it. There’s nothing wrong with the medication, just with the way he’s been using it. His back could get worse at any time. It’s smarter to hang onto it.

For some reason, he can’t voice any of these excuses to Jane. Instead, he says, “Hypnosis is an easy way out. I don’t want to not know it’s there, I want it to heal. This is an active job. If I’m not active while it’s healing, the muscles will never get used to the levels of activity I need them to function at. Besides, it’s not that bad. I can still work effectively.”

“That’s a lot of sheep dip for ‘this team would fall apart without me’,” Jane replies, and his tone is playful but careful, evaluating. It sounds like he's trying to make sure he says the right thing, which Cho's pretty sure Jane has never cared about before in his life. “The world doesn’t stop turning just because Kimball Cho takes a break.”

It doesn’t, but that’s the problem. Bullets won’t stop coming for Rigsby, for the Boss, for Van Pelt, for you. I have to be here to watch your backs. It’s what I’m good at.

“If I go home, the most I can do is lie around or do the exercises I’d be doing on a case anyway,” Cho replies. He slowly twists to the left, grimacing at the tug of sore muscles, then twists the other way. A little improvement. Not a lot. “I’m of more use here.”

“Mm,” Jane hums. He sounds thoughtful, drumming his fingers absently against his thigh. Then, abruptly, he pushes himself to his feet, clapping his hands together. “Well, in that case, the couch is yours! Whenever you want it. Enjoy.”

Cho stares at him, waiting for the ‘gotcha’. Jane willingly giving up his couch is one of Rigsby’s fifteen signs of the apocalypse. Maybe Jane misunderstood and thinks he’s dying. “You’re serious.”

“Well, so long as I’m not already sitting on it.” Jane pats the cushion Cho had been using as a pillow, making a show of plumping it up. “Can’t be comfortable doing paperwork with your back like that, and if this department doesn’t have the budget for a more expensive coffee machine – as Lisbon has repeatedly assured me we do not – then there’s no way that anyone’s brought up the issue of more comfortable seating within the last decade. All yours.”

There’s an odd, frenetic determination clinging to Jane as he says this, like the smell of ozone in an electrical storm. In a suspect, Cho would call it nervousness, or barely repressed guilt: someone eager to please starting to buckle under the pressure of professional disapproval. What in the world Jane could be guilty about, though, especially regarding their conversation, he can’t figure. “What’s the catch?”

Jane looks at him, expression unreadable. Then he says, with painful earnesty, “You’ve seemed tired, recently, and I haven't said anything. Irritable, snappish, distracted. You’ve been running yourself ragged looking after everyone, not asking anything in return, all on a bad back, and then I tell you to take a nap on my couch and your first instinct is to sniff out a trap. Not that I blame you, I’m not exactly the most forthcoming of people –”

“You’re not even in the top ten,” Cho deadpans.

“– but even I can recognize when I’ve sorely overlooked something important,” Jane continues without missing a beat, almost rushing to bypass the opportunity for banter. His hands are down at his sides, ostensibly lax and loose, but from his seated position, Cho can see the pads of his fingers rubbing together, like cricket legs striking up a tune: a familiar nervous tic. “To be fair, you’ve been doing an excellent job at hiding it from everyone, but I’m not everyone. I’ve done you a great disservice by continuing to ask for your help without any regard for your health and wellbeing, and for that, I’m sorry.”

The apology tilts Cho’s world askew, disorienting in its sincerity. He’s never thought it was that big a deal; Jane’s little game of noticing things about people, of being able to point out when new relationships started or old nightmares reared their heads, had been something he indulged in less and less often over the last few years, as their run-ins with Red John and his work had grown more and more harrowing. After shooting Timothy Carter – which he learned about in a call from Rigsby that Cho would never forget – it had stopped almost completely, as Jane spiraled further and further into obsession and lost sight of the rest of the team, lost sight of anything and anyone but his ultimate goal.

Part of Cho thinks that killing someone – not in self-defense, but with intention and planning and real, real conviction – has changed Jane fundamentally, in a way he can’t talk his way back out of. Part of Cho kicks himself when he thinks about that day in the shopping mall, about the fact that he’d left Jane there. Left him to kill a man.

So Jane pulling away, becoming more self-absorbed, becoming less attentive to the rest of the team, Cho took that in stride. The death of Timothy Carter was his fault, Jane was smart enough to put the pieces together and see that for himself. Naturally, he wouldn’t trust the team as much anymore, especially not with a mission as delicate and grave as the hunt for Red John: the rest of the team all trust Cho, and Cho proved himself unreliable.

It never occurred to him that Jane might not feel that way at all. He never thought that Jane might actually, genuinely want that connection that they all have, might regret having let it slip away. That he might value them just as much as they value him.

He’ll still use you in a heartbeat, that rational voice tells him. In a second, if it meant getting closer to Red John. He’s using all of you.

But he uses us carefully, the irrational voice whispers back. He places us on the board in places where we can’t get hurt unless we move ourselves to defend him.

But he knows you’ll always defend him, and so will always get hurt.

That's his guilt to live with, not mine.

“C’mon.” Jane doesn’t wait for Cho to acknowledge his apology, once again patting the couch cushions. “Catch some Z’s. I hear they’re on the FBI’s Most Wanted List.”

Cho reluctantly gives in, and with the assistance of Jane’s careful, steady hands, leans back once more against the arm of the couch. “Only if you wake me up when Rigsby comes back from interviewing our victim’s tutor.”

“Sure, sure,” Jane agrees cheerfully, the way he tells Lisbon he’ll get those incident reports sorted right away. “I wasn’t kidding about the deep tissue massage, by the way. Magic hands, here.” He wiggles his fingers and winks as he backs away, reaching for his abandoned cup of tea as he goes.

“Jane,” Cho calls, before he loses the nerve. The man turns back with a questioning hum.

There’s a lot he wants to say, all of a sudden, with no one else around but the two of them: the pills were becoming a problem. You’re a careless ass. You won’t survive Red John without us, and we won’t survive him without you, so you need to get your shit together, because we can't keep protecting you this way.

What he settles on is, “Thanks for the couch.”

Jane smiles, and the crow’s feet around his eyes turn them into crescent moons. “Take it easy,” is all he says, and retreats to the kitchenette.

Cho watches him until he’s out of sight, a dull grey blur in his peripheral.

-

When he wakes up, back stiff but feeling blissfully rested, it’s dark outside. He’s not surprised that Jane broke his promise, but he is surprised that the others let him. They were working a case, after all.

There are still lights on in the bullpen, but only a few of them, desk lamps and hall fluorescents. Rigsby and Van Pelt are in the kitchenette, talking in low voices by the coffee pot. Lisbon’s office door is open, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

When Cho sits up, slowly and carefully, he’s surprised to see a steaming cup of tea on the end table. An elaborate origami crane perches on the saucer, with “CHO” written in slapdash capital letters down one wing. It smells of chamomile, and warms him to his core.

It doesn’t take him long to find Jane; after all, Cho had offered up his desk chair. Jane’s pushed it up against the wall beneath the window, snug between a filing cabinet and the office whiteboard; his head lolls against the glass pane, eyes serenely closed, his suit jacket draped over his chest. His legs, crossed at the ankles, are propped up on the corner of Cho’s desk, on top of what looks suspiciously like a fully filled out request for paid time off, complete with forged signature.

Cho tries his best not to be soft on Jane like the rest of the team can be. He really does. Jane is careless, and thoughtless, and bound to get one or all of them killed someday. Jane needs to understand that his actions have consequences, and Cho has to be the one to show him that.

But Cho doesn’t mind being the one to forgive him every so often, too.

Besides, Jane was right: CBI chairs aren’t comfortable. He’ll come to understand Cho’s back pain all too well when the morning rolls around. Actions, and consequences.