The Mentalist, Patrick Jane x original female character (second person pov)
You've found the body of a serial killer's latest target. A friendly neighborhood Old Man. You're more honest than most of the kids that have run through the CBI offices. An...
You wake up too early. Grab your phone, heart jumps in your throat. There's a message from Patrick Jane. Almost forget to check the time. No one who got shot should be up at seven in the morning. Resign yourself to your fate; probably wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if you wanted to.
Getting up and opening the curtains is a harder task than it has any right to be. Your left thigh smarts something awful. Your arms are still covered in red and purpling marks. Peekaboo's claws, though pretty blunt, still packed a small punch.
Showering this morning means wiping yourself down with a soapy rag and washing your hair in the sink. Despite everything, you don't actually look like too much shit. Wash your face. Pick some baggy sweatpants and an old band shirt.
Look at the time on the microwave. Almost eight. Time for coffee, then.
You make a point to avoid your phone.
You sink into your couch with a mug of coffee. (Black, two spoonfuls of sugar.) Pull your laptop back into your lap, turn the TV on for background noise. Some morning show or whatever.
You spend the better part of your morning googling the CBI agents you saw yesterday for lack of anything better to do.
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Jane's enjoying a cup of tea on his Couch when his phone rings in his pocket. Bemused, he answers without looking at the caller ID.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Benraft?"
Lisbon looks at him like he's grown a second head. 'Skye?', she mouths. He nods patiently.
"Really? ...I see. No, nothing to worry about. I was just curious, you know how that goes." Weaves a coin through his fingers. "Well, I'm not at liberty to say right now. Have you tried reading your cards for it yet?"
Lisbon's expression is that of defeat. Throws her arms up and declares that she has better things to do than wait around for him to schedule a date. Or whatever the hell it is he's actually doing. She walks out with a huff.
Jane places his teacup and saucer on his desk and slowly gets up.
"Listen, I need you to do something for me. Can you go check your mail?"
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