FIC: Four Lists [The Mentalist, 1/1]
Title: Four Lists
Disclaimer: The Mentalist and all associated characters are not my property. Just doing this for fun.
Rating: PG - gen
Continuity/Spoilers: nothing specific, up to 1.10 - "Red Brick & Ivy."
Characters: Patrick Jane
Summary: Patrick Jane is making a list. He's not checking it twice.
Notes: This was supposed to be my version of a Christmas fic. A messed up Christmas fic. But I got smacked with sick, so this is late. Oh well.
Eggs
Milk
Fat-Free Peach Yogurt
Honey Nut Cheerios
1 bx Linguine
Ground Beef
Every second Tuesday, Patrick sits poised with pen and paper at the kitchen counter. He dutifully jots down every item that requires purchase as noted by his wife. It seems like a fair division of labor for him to do the grocery shopping, but she always teases him that he only does it because he enjoys being flirted with by single moms and pretty girl cashiers.
Truth of the matter is, he does, but not in the way she thinks. Every time, he meticulously writes the list, and every time, he forgets it behind a magnet on the fridge. He remembers every word, of course, unnecessary to have made the list in the first place, but it always prompts his wife to call. He'd be standing in the cereal aisle or the dairy section, and a woman would progressively move on closer and closer. They're always variations on a theme: tank-topped, tight-jeaned, with bottle-blonde tresses and impractical sandals. He is always kind, but oblivious as they lay on the charm.
Patrick may play a psychic on TV, but sometimes his wife is the real deal, because she always calls at just the right moment. He answers with his left hand around his cellphone, wedding band gleaming even under bad fluorescent lights. With a happy "hello, honey!", he watches the subtle disappointment, the polite smile, then the embarrassed retreat.
It's a terrible game to play, he knows, but such is the point of marriage, isn't it? A declaration of claimed property, and he has no problem being seen as off-limit goods. It gives him a thrill.
Patrick likes being married. He wouldn't change that for the world.
*
Snow Princess Barbie
Fashion Design Studio
A New Bike
Princess Castle Playhouse
A Pony
His wife says Patrick is spoiling their daughter rotten. That, he proclaims in return, is an impossible feat. Kaitlin, after all, is the sweetest girl who's ever lived. So what if she's got him wrapped around her little finger. It's not like he doesn't know that already, and knowledge is half the battle, right?
No, that argument never flies, but Patrick doesn't mind the eyerolls and the sighs. He keeps the list in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, the one that goes right over his heart. It's construction paper and three different color crayons, with illustrations to boot. Kaitlin has an eye for detail, you see. She got that from her father.
On Christmas Day, Kaitlin Jane is going to be the happiest little girl in the world.
*
Head
Shoulders
Knees
Toes
Kaitlin used to be absurdly fond of the song. Jane is the one who taught it to her, sung it with her, over and over.
It seems like a kind of poetic justice to use that as the roadmap for what he plans to do to Red John.
No messing with the arteries, none of that flaying alive business.
Just a knife. Then head and shoulders, knees and toes. Knees and toes. Knees and toes.
*
Cho
Rigsby
Lisbon
Van Pelt
Van Pelt believes in God and his infinite mercy. Lisbon believes in the law. Rigsby believes in basic human decency.
Cho is the one who believes in justice.
Jane knows this like he knows everything else.
The CBI as a whole is a means to an end. The team, he's sorry to say, is also a means to an end. He has the deepest respect for Lisbon, the fondest regard for Rigsby, and even a sincere affection for sweet Grace. But when the time comes, they will put themselves in his way, and he will have to go through them.
Cho is the one who will understand. Cho is the one who will help. Cho is the one who will let him through.
He doesn't know it now, though, Jane is certain of that. Whatever questions Cho may ask himself, he'd answer in a way that best suits an officer of the law. But Jane knows that he won't have to cajole, he won't have to convince. He won't even have to ask.
Cho will just help. And Jane's dear old friend will get into so much trouble.
But once Jane eviscerates Red John and his hot blood graces Jane's open hands, nothing else will matter at all.
Disclaimer: The Mentalist and all associated characters are not my property. Just doing this for fun.
Rating: PG - gen
Continuity/Spoilers: nothing specific, up to 1.10 - "Red Brick & Ivy."
Characters: Patrick Jane
Summary: Patrick Jane is making a list. He's not checking it twice.
Notes: This was supposed to be my version of a Christmas fic. A messed up Christmas fic. But I got smacked with sick, so this is late. Oh well.
Eggs
Milk
Fat-Free Peach Yogurt
Honey Nut Cheerios
1 bx Linguine
Ground Beef
Every second Tuesday, Patrick sits poised with pen and paper at the kitchen counter. He dutifully jots down every item that requires purchase as noted by his wife. It seems like a fair division of labor for him to do the grocery shopping, but she always teases him that he only does it because he enjoys being flirted with by single moms and pretty girl cashiers.
Truth of the matter is, he does, but not in the way she thinks. Every time, he meticulously writes the list, and every time, he forgets it behind a magnet on the fridge. He remembers every word, of course, unnecessary to have made the list in the first place, but it always prompts his wife to call. He'd be standing in the cereal aisle or the dairy section, and a woman would progressively move on closer and closer. They're always variations on a theme: tank-topped, tight-jeaned, with bottle-blonde tresses and impractical sandals. He is always kind, but oblivious as they lay on the charm.
Patrick may play a psychic on TV, but sometimes his wife is the real deal, because she always calls at just the right moment. He answers with his left hand around his cellphone, wedding band gleaming even under bad fluorescent lights. With a happy "hello, honey!", he watches the subtle disappointment, the polite smile, then the embarrassed retreat.
It's a terrible game to play, he knows, but such is the point of marriage, isn't it? A declaration of claimed property, and he has no problem being seen as off-limit goods. It gives him a thrill.
Patrick likes being married. He wouldn't change that for the world.
*
Snow Princess Barbie
Fashion Design Studio
A New Bike
Princess Castle Playhouse
A Pony
His wife says Patrick is spoiling their daughter rotten. That, he proclaims in return, is an impossible feat. Kaitlin, after all, is the sweetest girl who's ever lived. So what if she's got him wrapped around her little finger. It's not like he doesn't know that already, and knowledge is half the battle, right?
No, that argument never flies, but Patrick doesn't mind the eyerolls and the sighs. He keeps the list in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, the one that goes right over his heart. It's construction paper and three different color crayons, with illustrations to boot. Kaitlin has an eye for detail, you see. She got that from her father.
On Christmas Day, Kaitlin Jane is going to be the happiest little girl in the world.
*
Head
Shoulders
Knees
Toes
Kaitlin used to be absurdly fond of the song. Jane is the one who taught it to her, sung it with her, over and over.
It seems like a kind of poetic justice to use that as the roadmap for what he plans to do to Red John.
No messing with the arteries, none of that flaying alive business.
Just a knife. Then head and shoulders, knees and toes. Knees and toes. Knees and toes.
*
Cho
Rigsby
Lisbon
Van Pelt
Van Pelt believes in God and his infinite mercy. Lisbon believes in the law. Rigsby believes in basic human decency.
Cho is the one who believes in justice.
Jane knows this like he knows everything else.
The CBI as a whole is a means to an end. The team, he's sorry to say, is also a means to an end. He has the deepest respect for Lisbon, the fondest regard for Rigsby, and even a sincere affection for sweet Grace. But when the time comes, they will put themselves in his way, and he will have to go through them.
Cho is the one who will understand. Cho is the one who will help. Cho is the one who will let him through.
He doesn't know it now, though, Jane is certain of that. Whatever questions Cho may ask himself, he'd answer in a way that best suits an officer of the law. But Jane knows that he won't have to cajole, he won't have to convince. He won't even have to ask.
Cho will just help. And Jane's dear old friend will get into so much trouble.
But once Jane eviscerates Red John and his hot blood graces Jane's open hands, nothing else will matter at all.