Author's Note: I don't actually watch this show, I saw a couple of eps and wrote this from what I know. This is for Emily (Tiva4evaxxx), by now you know why ;) And the General of course :P

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist or any of its characters, neither do I own Emily.

Ship: A little Jisbon-y. I suppose you could take it either way. But it's meant to be Jisbon.


Lisbon glanced up at the curly head of Patrick Jane, watching him leave the table, swiftly tipping the waiter, tipping a Starbucks server, she man was mad. She watched him leave, smiling as she remembered what she'd first thought of the man, she had thought that it was a joke, this celebrity being sent to work on her team, this vengeful celebrity, it must be a joke, was her first thought. The last person she had wanted on her team was Patrick Jane, the smart aleck, the not-quite-psychic psychic, with a separate agenda, but she was given no choice in the matter, Jane was thrust upon her. Now, I can't imagine a day with him not on the team. She shook her head, what a sappy thought; something she hoped would never pass through her head again. He is an annoying, selfish, erratic and careless... okay, maybe not selfish, and not careless... She was drawing looks in the cafe as she sipped her coffee cautiously, attempting not to scald her tongue, while shaking the thoughts out her head. Why was she even bothering thinking about Jane? Maybe it's that interrogation technique, it's odd. The way he talks all suspects with the same manner, be they victim or criminal. It is intriguing to watch him work... Stop it! You do not need to dwell on this man.

And yet she still spent the rest of her coffee thinking about him, analysing him, he was swiftly becoming her obsession, she realised with horror.

His methods and style may be unorthodox but that was why they kept him. If he wasn't good he wouldn't still be with them, not with that mask. He hid behind it, the joking camaraderie with the team, yes, was there, and the angst he showed, but there was something... else. Something that – didn't scare, something else – worried Lisbon, behind the facade.

And she had told him she could never trust him. She knew why she had said that.

But she knew something else.

That was a lie.

Lisbon would trust him with the lives of herself and her team.

And there was one last thing she realised before a bullet slammed though her abdomen.