Just another attempt of humour in two-shots...and I can't remember where I got this one from. ":3.
Thanks to my dear half-beta again for picking up (quite some) typos!
Disclaimer: I do not own Mentalist, I do not earn money on this fic but I do own my twisted mind. Hope you'll enjoy reading this (won't blame you f you don't xD)
Lisbon was abruptly woken up by a loud yelp right by her side. She straightened in the bed, her hand automatically reaching for her drawer where her gun was usually hidden; but as soon as she leant forward, she had to bite back a groan. She felt like her head had been hammered for half of the night and the reek of alcohol indicated she was hungover. She touched her forehead and groaned in pain, feeling the nasty consequences of her low tolerance of alcohol.
She suddenly froze; something foreign was touching her leg and she realized she wasn't alone.
Jane was sitting next to her, hair in a mess and bare-chested with a lost look that made him look so sexy –she slapped herself inwardly at the single thought- eyeing her with a mixture of shock and horror. According to the half-opened mouth he was the one who screamed… and had her brain been less sleepy and numbed by the painful headache, she would have pointed out his yelp reminded him of a high-pitched schoolgirl.
"What are you doing…" she started mumbling; but when he didn't react she knew something wasn't right. Jane was never speechless unless hell's gates get loose. Realisation dawned upon her like a bucket of cold water. She was completely naked and Jane was not even watching at her face, but slightly lower. Her cheeks turned scarlet in seconds.
"Damn it Jane!" she shouted, grabbing the sheet to cover her breasts, wide awake and headache forgotten. "Don't stare!"
He blinked, snapping out from his state of haze immediately and protested in a childish, pouting tone:
"I am a man Lisbon, what do you expect me to do? And don't pull all the covers!" his hand came to rest on the little sheets Lisbon had left for him and drew them more over his lower half. "I know you badly want to peek but…"
He was interrupted by a slap on the back of his head. The contact made him wince in pain, and given his alcoholic breath, she'd make a safe bet in assuming he'd been as hammered as she had been.
"No need for violence!" he protested, his hand reaching the now sore spot. "I've got a massive headache."
"Your headache is the least of my problems!" she almost shouted in hysteria. "How are we going to get out of bed?"
Still rubbing the place where she hit him, Jane stared at her like she had turned insane.
"Well, you stand up and walk away my dear."
Lisbon growled in despair, was he acting clueless on purpose?
"Unless you haven't noticed, we're both naked" she snorted. "I'm not standing up with you staring at me from the bed."
"I thought the nakedness was obvious" he replied pleasantly, ignoring the death glare that followed. "But if you insist on finding a way out… you collect your things first and dress up in the bathroom, and I close my eyes. I promise I won't peek." She threw him a pointed glare; silently telling him "yeah, right". After his wandering eyes, no way she was letting him out of her sight. He sighed and added: "C'mon Lisbon, we've passed the stage of being embarrassed with each other's bodies… not that I remember much of it anyway but…"
He shut up at her narrowing eyes but held her gaze innocently. After a few seconds of staring Lisbon eventually gave in and, holding the sheet tightly around her body, stumbled out of the bed, determined to gather up her wildly-spread clothes. Her pants and shirt were sprawled on the floor, but her panties and bra were harder to find. It took her a few minutes to notice her underwear under the armchair at the other side of the room –how did it get there anyway?- and for her bra…
The agent turned just in time to size the flying garment, nearly dropping the sheet at the same time. And when she caught the mischievousness in his smile, while his eyes were closed, she knew he had kept the article of clothing hidden on purpose. If she had yelped and lost grip on what hid her body, he had every excuse to open those eyes. She glared at him, despite knowing he couldn't see but feel her embarrassment.
Jackass she thought angrily, heading to the bathroom. She slammed the door closed; made sure she locked it and put all her stuff down.
Aside from a stabbing pain in the head due to that whiskey thing –couldn't remember the name of the drink correctly- she didn't have the slightest remembrance of the previous night. Had she really slept with Jane of all people? Her cheeks burned at the thought. Their trip had started normally enough; a banal case in Los Angeles. A fake Gandalf was found throat opened on the street, Jane immediately suspected his partner playing Dumbledore, and to his utter annoyance the man confessed immediately after being brought in the office and interrogated by Cho. The closed case pizza was replaced by a closed case drink, and soon it was coming close to midnight…
When the pain prevented her from thinking more, she didn't fight it and pushed the shower curtain aside to step in the huge, nicely decorated shower. Determined to relax at least a little bit under warm water, she reached for the tap and turned the handle. The uneasy feeling of metal against metal made her shiver, and it was only then she noticed something was out of place; or rather, at a place it should not be. Something that looked strangely like a golden ring on her left hand…
"Lisbon, I think we have a problem!" she heard Jane's tensed voice from the other side of the door. She didn't react immediately, too caught up with the piece of jewellery on her finger. This was a nightmare, right? A horrible nightmare and she was soon going to wake up.
"What?" she asked; her voice wavering and tensing at the anticipated, dreadful answer. Please don't make this real, please don't make this real…
The harsh contact with reality hit Lisbon the most when she read the marriage licence. According to those two pieces of paper, she was now officially named 'Teresa Lisbon Jane', and it was her signature on the bottom left. This was the contract that tied her to the man sitting next to her. At first, she expected him to be behind the farce, but in no way he would be able to feign the genuine surprise and shock on his face. So this wasn't a hoax from him, obviously.
Now, they were both completely dressed, sitting on the border of the bed at respectable distance from each other, contemplating with dread the marriage contract. The rings had been removed and placed in the jewellery box that was on a chair nearby. Somehow, Lisbon could not bring herself to look at them. Where did they come from anyway? There was no bill note or anything that proved they had been the buyers or…
"What should we do now?" Jane asked, tearing her from her stream of thoughts.
The question unnerved her a little and she replied immediately:
"First, we get a divorce. I'm not marrying you."
To that statement, Jane nodded. He liked Lisbon, he really did. It was just that… being married to her was another story. He knew she wouldn't be hurt if he agreed so readily; she shared the feeling -it was obvious in her voice. He still had troubles accepting the fact –or even imagining sleeping with her. Thinking of it…
Her flushed face, sleepy eyes and the way her upper half seemed to glow in the morning light…
He took his last thought back. He wouldn't mind that much; after all, she was a beautiful woman; and he had accepted long ago he had a mousy crush on her.
"Second…" her voice brought him back to reality, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "No mention about this to the team. It's… it's really embarrassing…"
"You mean the 'we woke up married' or the 'we have very likely slept together' part?"
"Both" she replied quickly, cheeks reddening and looking away. For once, they were both embarrassed and unsure of their course of action. After a small talk, it was evident neither remembered what exactly happened. The most they could recall was the evening at the bar; the drinks being passed along, Rigsby being particularly cheerful because of the beer, Cho still deadpan as always and Van Pelt nervously glancing at her not-so-secret-ex-sweetheart. The clock stroke eleven thirty when Lisbon decided to call it a night and Jane stood up to follow her. Neither was able to stand by their own, so the Asian man and the rookie helped them back to their room… And it stopped there. None could actually picture themselves entering the room or going to bed.
Lisbon cleared her throat and brought back her attention on their current situation.
"We need to find the priest or the judge that… signed this" she pointed to the papers with uneasiness. "Then, we never mention this again."
"We couldn't have gone very far" he interrupted, taking the papers in turn and spotting an address. "Look, it's just downside the street."
Lisbon frowned at him.
"How do you know?"
"I always check the streets name's around. Now my dear, we need to get rid of the team and get an annulment."
"Right" she agreed, somehow feeling off. "We do that… How?"
Jane pursed his mouth, thinking. They had to get rid of the team first to avoid any humiliation of some sorts. So, find an excuse to leave behind.
"Just say we stayed behind for some stunts I pulled that you need to repair. Like… I don't know, annoying the manager about his affair with the new employee. Or tease the cook on his inefficient apprentices?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes at him. He was so not…
"Tell you what, I know exactly what to do" he cut, and before she could even speak, headed to the door. "Keep the marriage licence with you! I'll meet you in the hallway in…" he checked his watch "…about an hour."
The door slammed when he hurried out, and Lisbon could just stare at his departure, wishing dearly he wasn't going to find something too extravagant that would end up in piles and piles of paperwork again…
Lisbon wasn't the only one starting to get impatient. She and the team had met in the breakfast room and were now waiting for their last member. The hour had almost already passed, and she was wondering where the heck did her infuriating consultant could have fled to? Her thought was distraught soon answer though, with the arrival of the director of the hotel –she swore the previous day she'd recognized the imposing moustache everywhere. When she realized his face was red with indignation and anger, the dread feeling of the troubles awaiting her… and at the very moment, she remembered Jane commenting on some fake paintings the man hung on his wall office… and his thoughts of burning them down to piss off the man; who had the misfortune of "irking" the consultant.
The director spotted her in the distance and waved at her, a scornful glint in his eyes.
"Agent Lisbon!" he roared angrily. "May I have a word with you in my office? About Mr Jane!"
Lisbon had to roll her eyes to restrain the frustrated cry deep on her throat and turned towards her team:
"You guys go back to Sacramento. I'll take care of Mr Richards and… whatever Jane did this time."
Her co-workers nodded reluctantly –they were all glad to go back home, but how could they leave their boss alone with Jane and Mr Richards? The previous day had shown how short-tempered he could be when, in the fire of action, he had thrown a vase on the floor. She shooed them away before heading straight to the director, praying her diplomatic skills would be enough for pull them both out of whatever misery the blond had created this time. As she approached, she noticed the man was having difficulties holding a straight face and mentioned to her to follow him before she could even speak. In a defeated silence, she walked besides him through the corridors of the hotel to his office. He paused in front of the door, opened it with a few difficulties due to his hands shaking; was it nervousness?- and let her enter before him.
Once inside, she immediately spotted Jane observing closely a painting on the nearest wall. As soon as he saw them, he took a step away and grinned cheerfully at her. Lisbon restrained a scowl, wanting nothing more but kick him where it hurts.
Tell me you didn't burn anything she mouthed to him discreetly.
He merely shrugged and smirked proudly. Sometimes –like now- she wished she could slap him hard. At least, he was giving a good excuse to stay behind… but did he have to go so far? What had he done anyway?
"Mr Richards…" she started, turning towards the director and hoping she could make up a quick excuse to cover up whatever he was about to blow on her. She didn't expect the proud smile directed at her and the consultant.
"I apologize for my rudeness, Agent Lisbon" he said immediately, the tone of his voice suddenly much gentler and polite. "But feigning anger, on Mr Jane's advice, was the only way I found to bring you to my office."
At the questioning glance she threw him, Jane answered cheerfully:
"Mr Richards was nice enough to go along with my plan. Now that I believe you've sent the others away, we can stay one more day and take our sweet time together."
"I give a 5 per cent discount on newlyweds if you decide to stay here tonight" the director added, winking. "Congratulations to both of you, and have a good day."
Jane grinned back: "Thank you very much Mr Richards. I wish you the same!" and pushed Lisbon out of the office before she had time to reply that they were, in fact, not married but trying to un-marry. Once the office door was closed, she glared at him.
"Married? Seriously Jane, what did you tell him?"
The blond man grinned and made a waving gesture with his hand.
"Meh, I knew the man was a sucker for cheesy romance. I bet we gave him some material for the next family Christmas meal. And it is better than angering someone, don't you think, my dear wife?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes and took out the marriage licence off her pants pocket –the last place this kind of paper would be expected to be, she thought. She unfolded it and glanced at the address once more.
"So shall we start there?" he said, interrupting her contemplation again. She nodded and put the paper back in her pocket.
An interesting investigation was about to start…
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And thank you for reading so far!