An Odd Little Crossover Ficlet
So, here's the thing. fan_flashworks announced their new current challenge, which is "five things." And as I was trying to think of something to do for that, I remembered that once upon a time, I had this idea about maybe writing a series of tiny little crossovers between The Pretender and various other fandoms. Hey, I thought, maybe I could do that! Something like, "Five Roles Jarod Played" or "Fives Jobs Jarod Did" or something. And then I realized, hey, I've already got 2/5ths of that written, because I already did that crossover with Harry Potter and one with Doctor Who! I even had this vague idea for another one that had been floating around in the back of my mind... So I sat down and cranked that section out. Yay!
Except I then realized that 1) the community rules are firm about not re-using old material, even if you're adding new stuff to it (which I double-checked with the mods), 2) this is probably an overly ambitious idea, especially for a short-deadline fic challenge, more especially so on a week when my work schedule is inconvenient and heavy, and even more especially so if I have to start from scratch, and 3) the thing I just wrote doesn't go terribly well with the stuff I already have, anyway, as it covers some of the same ground. Phooey.
So, I give up. I'm just posting this as a stand-alone here, for whatever small number of people might actually be familiar with both these fandoms. Maybe I'll think of something smaller-scale to do for the challenge.
Anyway, here ya go:
Title: Can't Con A Con Man
Fandoms: The Pretender/The Mentalist
Rating: G
Length: ~550 words
Can't Con A Con Man
Patrick Jane leaned on the door of the otherwise-deserted interrogation room and looked in at CBI's newest team member. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Jarod looked up from his paperwork with a small, innocent smile. "Yes?"
"Yes," said Jane. He straightened up and stepped into the room, meeting Jarod's eyes. "Who are you, really?"
"You know who I am. Agent Jarod--"
Jane waved a hand. "I know who you say you are. But you're not, are you?"
"What makes you think that?" Jarod's bland expression gave nothing at all away.
"Well, for one thing, I've seen your file. It's perfect."
"That's a bad thing?"
"It's an impossible thing. In a job like law enforcement, personnel files are always messy, no matter how tidy and boring they might look at a casual glance. Things get left out, they get simplified, creatively re-interpreted... So much depends, ever-so-subtly, on the relationship between the subject and the person writing the report. There are whole stories between the lines, if you know where to look. Except for yours. Yours is all there on the surface."
Jane stepped closer, his eyes still locked on Jarod's. Jarod raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
"And then there's your knowledge of the job," Jane continued. "It's very good. Very, very good, in fact. All the procedures, you've got those cold. You know rules that even Lisbon has forgotten. And you know how to handle yourself. But there are little things, things that you can't find in any handbook, things you haven't had the opportunity to observe. Things that someone who's been doing this job as long as you claim to would know. You're very good at covering for it. A vague answer, a little joke, a change of subject. And that oddball personality of yours that leaves people a little off-balance. I know that trick very well." Jane's mouth curled, just for a moment, into the hint of a smile. "And then, of course, there's your eyes. Sometimes, just occasionally, when you think no one's watching you, they change."
"So do yours," said Jarod evenly.
Jane pointed a finger at him. "Exactly!" He leaned over and put his hands on the interrogation table, his voice suddenly low and hard. "And you've been asking lots of questions about the Red John case. I want to know why. Because if you're working for him..."
"I'm not." Something had shifted slightly in Jarod's posture, in his voice. Something like a surface layer dropping away. "I'm here to help you."
Jane's eyes slowly searched Jarod's face. "Why do I almost want to believe you?" he said softly.
"Mr. Jane, I know what it's like to lose your family. I know. I want to find the man who killed yours, I want him to understand exactly what he did, and I want to make sure he never, ever does it to anyone else again."
Jane's eyes flickered over him for another long moment, then he smiled, an expression that somehow managed to be both warm and grim. "Well, then," he said, sitting down. "We should get started. Why don't you begin by explaining exactly who you are and why you're here?"
And for the first time in a long, long while, Jarod stopped pretending, and did.
Except I then realized that 1) the community rules are firm about not re-using old material, even if you're adding new stuff to it (which I double-checked with the mods), 2) this is probably an overly ambitious idea, especially for a short-deadline fic challenge, more especially so on a week when my work schedule is inconvenient and heavy, and even more especially so if I have to start from scratch, and 3) the thing I just wrote doesn't go terribly well with the stuff I already have, anyway, as it covers some of the same ground. Phooey.
So, I give up. I'm just posting this as a stand-alone here, for whatever small number of people might actually be familiar with both these fandoms. Maybe I'll think of something smaller-scale to do for the challenge.
Anyway, here ya go:
Title: Can't Con A Con Man
Fandoms: The Pretender/The Mentalist
Rating: G
Length: ~550 words
Can't Con A Con Man
Patrick Jane leaned on the door of the otherwise-deserted interrogation room and looked in at CBI's newest team member. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Jarod looked up from his paperwork with a small, innocent smile. "Yes?"
"Yes," said Jane. He straightened up and stepped into the room, meeting Jarod's eyes. "Who are you, really?"
"You know who I am. Agent Jarod--"
Jane waved a hand. "I know who you say you are. But you're not, are you?"
"What makes you think that?" Jarod's bland expression gave nothing at all away.
"Well, for one thing, I've seen your file. It's perfect."
"That's a bad thing?"
"It's an impossible thing. In a job like law enforcement, personnel files are always messy, no matter how tidy and boring they might look at a casual glance. Things get left out, they get simplified, creatively re-interpreted... So much depends, ever-so-subtly, on the relationship between the subject and the person writing the report. There are whole stories between the lines, if you know where to look. Except for yours. Yours is all there on the surface."
Jane stepped closer, his eyes still locked on Jarod's. Jarod raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
"And then there's your knowledge of the job," Jane continued. "It's very good. Very, very good, in fact. All the procedures, you've got those cold. You know rules that even Lisbon has forgotten. And you know how to handle yourself. But there are little things, things that you can't find in any handbook, things you haven't had the opportunity to observe. Things that someone who's been doing this job as long as you claim to would know. You're very good at covering for it. A vague answer, a little joke, a change of subject. And that oddball personality of yours that leaves people a little off-balance. I know that trick very well." Jane's mouth curled, just for a moment, into the hint of a smile. "And then, of course, there's your eyes. Sometimes, just occasionally, when you think no one's watching you, they change."
"So do yours," said Jarod evenly.
Jane pointed a finger at him. "Exactly!" He leaned over and put his hands on the interrogation table, his voice suddenly low and hard. "And you've been asking lots of questions about the Red John case. I want to know why. Because if you're working for him..."
"I'm not." Something had shifted slightly in Jarod's posture, in his voice. Something like a surface layer dropping away. "I'm here to help you."
Jane's eyes slowly searched Jarod's face. "Why do I almost want to believe you?" he said softly.
"Mr. Jane, I know what it's like to lose your family. I know. I want to find the man who killed yours, I want him to understand exactly what he did, and I want to make sure he never, ever does it to anyone else again."
Jane's eyes flickered over him for another long moment, then he smiled, an expression that somehow managed to be both warm and grim. "Well, then," he said, sitting down. "We should get started. Why don't you begin by explaining exactly who you are and why you're here?"
And for the first time in a long, long while, Jarod stopped pretending, and did.