Business as usual.

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I have no idea how to top that last one, so I'm not even going to try. Wish me luck anyway!!

Disclaimer: Ahhahha!!!!! OH MY F- <dead> (my reaction if I owned the mentalist, which I don't!)

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Lisbon's P.O.V.

I throw myself face down on to my sofa, groaning. I thought back to the chaotic day I just survived. Even when I first got the call, I knew it wasn't a good idea, but I took the case anyway. Worst mistake ever. Maybe.

That morning

I stride into the bullpen, rounding up the team. I look around to see Jane still on his leather throne. He was lying down staring at the ceiling.

"There's my favorite jackas-" I start, but he interrupts

"Shush, I'm talking to Elvis."

"I would punch you, but it might damage your brain even further." I grab his arm, "We've got a case. "

Everyone floods into the van and we quickly drive of.

"I will probably let you handle this case, for some extra experience," I say, not glancing away from the road.

"Ooooh, thanks," Jane grinned.

"I was talking to Grace," I correct him. He pouts, which earns him an eye roll from me. Van Pelt nods, smiling.  I pull off the highway, and park in front of an old ballroom. There's a sign that says Le Jasmine It's like a building people rented out for special parties. It is also a fancy restaurant, which I absolutely hate because of the necessity to wear  unpractical heels, and sip horrid champagne with your pinkie in the air.

We climb out, and I gesture for Van Pelt to take the lead. She does, looking slightly nervous, but she shakes it of, and heads inside to talk to the owner. 

The doors swing open in front of me and even though most of the inside is roped off, and there is a man with a bread knife sticking out of his chest, I silently gasp at the beauty. The ceilings are arched high, with gold plates beams, and stained-glass windows. The room is huge, with a gleaming, marble front desk, and a restraunt behind it. There are many hallways and loads of various balconies leading to different parts of the glorious building. I stride past the front desk and stand in  the restraunt, filled with circular tables, white tableclothes laces with gold, to match the domed ceiling . There are several trees planted in pots, mostly magnolias and crape myrtles. You can hear fountians from some where in the distance along with soft music,  Mozart to be exact. I walk across the soft, taupe colored carpet to talk to one of the managers.

"So, what exacly is Le Jazmine?" I question, pulling out my notepad.

"We've taken an inn to the next level. There's a hotel ponet, and of course, this restraunt. There's also gorgious ballrooms that can be rented out for parties." The man says enthousiastically. I scribble it down.

"Unfortunate tablecloth color." Jane announces to no one in particular. I look up. "Because, you know, bloodstains aren't gonna coe out of that easy..yeah.." He trails off, and then walks off, wondering between the trees, and disappearing.

Van Pelt temporarily pauses in her conversation with the owner, Mr. Brennan Cornant.  

"I'll follow him," I volunteer.

"Good luck," Cho mutters.

I follow Jane, and he definitly hears my loafers against the flooring, which has now become, a smooth granite. He leads me through the lavish maze, never turning around. I wonder if he knows it's me.

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