Red Hearts

Chapter 9 (Lisbon)

Disclaimer: I zoo not own zee Mentaleest. I weesh I deed.

So yeah, this is pretty much a continuation of the last chapter- I just felt like cutting the scene in half. MWAHAHAAA!!!!!!! (power to the author- coughcoughmecough)

Here we go! Into the magical world of the Mentalist/Jisbon-land... :)

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I have now, finally, determined that, yes, I have fallen in love with my arrogant, pain-in-the-butt, selfish, preoccupied, revenge-seeking, emotionally unavailable, and essentially unattainable consultant, Patrick Jane.

I am seriously questioning my judgment.

Overcome with a desire to see Jane, I straighten up in my seat in a desperate attempt to see if he is on his couch- or anywhere in sight, for that matter.

My eyes quickly scan the bullpen, resting for an extra moment on his couch, and they finally land on the stairway up to the attic. Well, who am I kidding? It's his attic.And it's where I'm guessing he is right now, plotting away over Red John. Unless... what if he was thinking of me? My heart swells for a moment and is about to fly away, when I capture it and drag it back to reality.

Jane cares more about Red John than he does about me.

I've always known it. And he's going after Red John for Angela and Charlotte. I chuckle sarcastically to my self. Ha. Ha. As if I could ever mean more to him than them.

Well, now I'm just depressing myself, I decide, so I suddenly stand up and stretch. My back cringes with the movement. Ever since Jane's backrub, it hasn't been near as bad, but it still hurts. And it gets worse with every passing day (and night) that I spend without Jane to help my back or my mind.

Again, I rapidly check the bullpen, particularly Jane's couch, and, following a sudden impulse, I get up, leave my office, and head over to Jane's couch.

I find myself standing awkwardly in front of it, staring it as if it will solve my messed-up life. Which, by the way, my subconscious seems to think that it will. Darn that stupid subconscious. I didn't even know that it existed until a certain mental mentalist came into my life...

Looking at this old, ratty couch, I have to wonder what Jane sees in it. Glancing behind me to make sure no one's watching, I turn around, back up to the couch, and...

Sit on it. And oh my God...

This is the best couch ever. I can't even... oh my goodness. Wow. No wonder Jane loves this couch so much. This couch is a piece of heaven! I close my eyes and lean back into the couch's warmth, feeling my tension melt away. I'm relaxing into the couch. I don't ever wanna move...

Wait, what was that?!?

I hear footsteps approaching me quietly. I assume they belong to Jane, based on the softness of his steps. He walks very gracefully, to the point where I can barely hear him... but I can hear him. And therefore, my eyes flutter open to stare at him. He's beaming at me like a small boy on Christmas, but his grin has a hint of teasing in it. As if he has just thought of an excellent way to tease me and is saving it for the perfect moment to catch me offguard with his goofiness.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "What, Jane?" I pretend to not know what this is about. I pretend to not be aware of the fact that I've taken over his couch.

"You're... uh... sitting on my couch," Jane explains slowly, still grinning.

"Since when is it your couch?" I ask. "I, for one, thought everyone in the CBI had the right to sit down."

"Don't be so truthful and just. It doesn't suit you."

"What?" I ask, enraged. Then, curious, I add, "And what does suit me?"

He smirks. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

Frustrated, I cock both eyebrows at him. "Yes. I would!" I tried to sound forceful, but my words came out more desperate. I have to admit, I'm intrigued.

He sighs. "Ah, Lisbon, when will you learn? You're always adorable. Though I have to say, being in a certain pink dress doesn't hurt." His eyes twinkle at me as I recall that day. I hated that dress. The femininity and overall- well, pink-ness of it pretty much undid every wall I have ever built around me.

In about five minutes, that dress stripped away my "bad-ass boss" image, and made me look like a woman. And horribly enough, Jane and Cho both saw me like that. I know that it didn't affect Cho- because, let's be real here- nothing affects Cho. But, Jane, on the other hand. Jane stuttered when he saw me, and said I was beautiful. And, as annoyed as I was, I can't deny how amazing it felt to hear that- especially from Jane, The Emotionally Unavailable. Anyway, I know that if Jane is bringing up that day, he's in a flirtatious mood. And, after a bit of internal battle and mental torture as I imagine him kissing me, I decide to play along.

"Well, fine, then. Be that way." I raise my chin slightly, not moving from my comfy position on the couch.

Jane raises an eyebrow and grins. "Okay. Can I have my couch back now, though?"

I snort. "Well I, for one, have no intention of moving."

Jane chuckles and hesitates slightly. I wonder what for, before noticing that he is stepping towards me. "Oh well. I guess I shall have to take matters into my own hands then." And with that, he comes over and stands next to me. Then, all of a sudden, he sits on the middle section. "You know, it's getting pretty late. Normally I would sleep right where you're sitting right now. Care to move? This gentleman needs his rest."

I smirk. "Fine then- old man."

Jane feigns a shocked look. "How dare you?" He jokes. And then, all of a sudden, he swings his feet up on the armrest on the other armrest, and lays his head ever so gently on-

my lap.

His head is on my lap.

PATRICK JANE IS LAYING ON ME!

I try to chastise him, but all that comes out is a pathetic stutter. Nice work, Teresa. How very eloquent of you.

Jane sighs. "Ah. That's better." He snuggles into my legs. "You make a very nice pillow, Lisbon."

WHAT? "Excuse me, Jane?"

"Instead of tackling bad guys, you should try seducing them. They'd fall harder."

What the freaking- I try to get up. Jane leans his head backward and pushes it into my lap, forcing me to stay seated. "Let me up, Jane."

"Hmm- let me think. Nope. Nice try, though."

"LET ME UP, JANE!"

"No thanks."

I glare down at him, as he beams up at me. As annoying as he's being, I really, REALLY want to kiss him right now. Or at least run my hand through his golden curls. I accidentally let out a barely audible sigh, and lean my head on the back of the couch. "Fine, Jane. I give up. What do you want?"

His expression softens. "Oh, Teresa. You know I can't answer that. Mainly for Red John to be dead and you to be safe."

And with that, the rest of my heart melts into this shockingly excellent couch. I sigh. "Jane, I can protect myself. I'm not some damsel in distress that you always need to run around saving. Rather, its usually me that ends up saving your butt."

Jane chuckles and snuggles into my lap even further. I honestly wouldn't mind sleeping here tonight. I'd probably sleep much better than I would at home.

Jane stiffens slightly and says, "Hey, Lisbon...?"

"Yeah, Jane?"

"Do you particularly want to move? Because I have to say, I'm pretty comfy right here."

No way. I definitely do not want to stay here. "Yeah, me too." Oh my God. I am losing my mind.

And with that, Jane and I fell asleep together on his couch, my fingers absentmindedly rubbing his smooth curls, shining in the moonlight.