Fic: Parallels (Crossover)
Fandoms: Eleventh Hour and the Mentalist
Pairings: Jacob Hood/Patrick Jane, Theresa Lisbon/Rachel Young
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Who can avoid the similarities between these two shows? - both have an eccentric male lead who solves crimes by the Power of Brain, and with a rule-oriented female lead who has to put up with his shit.
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: But, in Theresa Lisbon’s personal opinion, the worst sign of all is when the FBI decide to waltz in and take over without so much as a by-your-leave.
- - -
~1~
It’s a bad sign when they find the radiation traces around the crime scene. It’s a worse sign when they uncover the second victim, half-buried in the ground.
But, in Theresa Lisbon’s personal opinion, the worst sign of all is when the FBI decide to waltz in and take over without so much as a by-your-leave.
“I’m Doctor Jacob Hood,” introduces the man, mildly, “and this is -”
“Special Agent Rachel Young,” she interrupts.
Pretty, blond, and ready to take over. Lisbon dislikes her immediately.
~2~
Jacob Hood is examining the third body when Patrick Jane emerges from the back of the lab, a silver-grey ingot held in front of him.
Jacob leaps to conclusions alarmingly fast - shouts, in inarticulate alarm. Peripherally aware of the CBI agent in charge give a yell of, “Jane, what the hell are you doing!” and Rachel almost goes for her gun, that’s how bad this is -
“Relax,” says Patrick, with a grin. He tosses it from one hand to the other. “I already checked. It’s not radioactive.”
Jacob takes a breath, to calm his heartbeat. “You do realize,” he says, “that about that much uranium could obliterate a significant radius if it’s just held near another ingot that size?”
Patrick shrugs.
“Don’t,” says Rachel, “ever do that again.”
Patrick’s smile vanishes from his mouth - still around his eyes, though, Jacob sees - and he gives a faux-solemn nod. “Of course.”
“May I?” asks Jacob.
Patrick passes him the ingot.
“Heavy,” says Jacob. “High mass, and it’s - painted? - to look the perfect color.” He shakes his head. “It’s not dense enough to be uranium, even if it were radioactive.”
“But it’s a convincing fake,” says Patrick.
Jacob meets Patrick’s eyes, and he knows that, whether Patrick is a real psychic or not, the two of them are most certainly thinking the same thing.
~3~
It’s halfway through the interrogation when Lisbon glances around, realizes that Patrick Jane is missing, and then, on the heels of that, sees that Jacob Hood, likewise, is nowhere to be found.
“Excuse me,” she says, holding up a hand to stop the witness. “Where the heck did they go?”
Special Agent Rachel Young frowns. “I’ll find them,” she says.
“Hey,” says the witness, “hey, where are you going?”
Rachel is back in a few minutes, proceeded by both Jane and Dr. Hood. Keeping them in front of her - Lisbon can appreciate that.
After the interview -
“I never thought I’d have to deal with two of them,” says Lisbon, aside, to Rachel.
Rachel lets a smile twist her mouth.
Allies, thinks Lisbon.
~4~
“What are you doing?” asks Jacob, as Patrick takes Jacob’s wrist, lifts his arm.
“I’m reading your mind,” says Patrick. “And I’m going to psychically determine the answer to my question.”
“What question?”
“Ssh,” says Patrick. “Look into my eyes.”
Jacob raises an eyebrow, but he obeys.
“Your mind to my mind,” intones Patrick, “your thoughts to my thoughts-”
Jacob tries - and fails - to suppress the involuntary smile.
“All right,” says Patrick, “that’s settled. Is your hotel restaurant all right, or should we go someplace nice?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said yes,” says Patrick.
A shadow flickers across Jacob’s face - a microexpression, almost too fast to see. “And why did I do that?”
“Because we have more in common than we have differences,” says Patrick. “How does your wife like the hours you keep in this job?”
Jacob really flinches, this time - would have pulled away, but Patrick kept his hold on Jacob’s arm.
“How did she die?” asks Patrick. His tone softening, soothing.
“Cancer,” Jacob says, shortly.
“My wife was murdered,” says Patrick. “Come with me to dinner.”
Jacob starts to answer -
“No, wait,” interrupts Patrick, holding up a hand. “Don’t say anything. I’m psychic, remember?”
~5~
"Interesting," says Jacob Hood, quietly, after the interrogation finishes, "how Paul Gregor managed to keep his lab assistant coming back, time and time again. She got nothing out of it; why would she keep helping him?"
Across the office, Special Agent Rachel Young leads Gregor towards the doorway; Agent Lisbon follows, a few paces behind, sour with the realization that the FBI stole away their case and their arrest.
Patrick quirks a little bit of a smile. This case has been very - educational.
"How did you know it was him?" continues Jacob, a lilt in his voice.
Patrick sprawls back on the couch. "You ever had really good sex?"
"Excuse me?" - but the performance falls a little short of truly surprised; of course Jacob already expected an inappropriate response.
"The best lovers," says Patrick, intently, "take you to the edge, over and over again." Catches eye contact, with Jacob, and he swears that Jacob's breath starts to come shorter. "Until you're half-crazy," he presses on, soft, "and you keep hoping, keep praying that this is the last time, that you'll let go this time - but the rest of you knows it's not time yet, and loves the ride."
Which doesn't just answer Jacob's question, of course. Though it does that too.
"Is that a statement of fact," returns Jacob, finally, "or a promise?"
Patrick's smile widens into a grin.
~6~
Rachel’s phone rings at 4:13 AM, by the hotel clock; Lisbon blinks, groggily, and envies Rachel’s surprisingly articulate, “Yes. Yes, sir. We’ll be there by noon.”
Predictably, as soon as the cell is closed, Rachel slips out from between the sheets. Lisbon can barely make out her shape as she gathers her blouse, her bra from the floor.
“Looks like you have a worse schedule than I do,” says Lisbon.
“Part of the job,” says Rachel. “I have to get Hood awake.”
“I should be getting back home, then.”
There’s no response, for a moment; then, “I’ll look you up,” Rachel tells her. “Next time I’m in California.”
Lisbon can hear the wry smile in Rachel’s voice.
“I’d like that,” Lisbon says. “Very much.”
Pairings: Jacob Hood/Patrick Jane, Theresa Lisbon/Rachel Young
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Who can avoid the similarities between these two shows? - both have an eccentric male lead who solves crimes by the Power of Brain, and with a rule-oriented female lead who has to put up with his shit.
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: But, in Theresa Lisbon’s personal opinion, the worst sign of all is when the FBI decide to waltz in and take over without so much as a by-your-leave.
- - -
~1~
It’s a bad sign when they find the radiation traces around the crime scene. It’s a worse sign when they uncover the second victim, half-buried in the ground.
But, in Theresa Lisbon’s personal opinion, the worst sign of all is when the FBI decide to waltz in and take over without so much as a by-your-leave.
“I’m Doctor Jacob Hood,” introduces the man, mildly, “and this is -”
“Special Agent Rachel Young,” she interrupts.
Pretty, blond, and ready to take over. Lisbon dislikes her immediately.
~2~
Jacob Hood is examining the third body when Patrick Jane emerges from the back of the lab, a silver-grey ingot held in front of him.
Jacob leaps to conclusions alarmingly fast - shouts, in inarticulate alarm. Peripherally aware of the CBI agent in charge give a yell of, “Jane, what the hell are you doing!” and Rachel almost goes for her gun, that’s how bad this is -
“Relax,” says Patrick, with a grin. He tosses it from one hand to the other. “I already checked. It’s not radioactive.”
Jacob takes a breath, to calm his heartbeat. “You do realize,” he says, “that about that much uranium could obliterate a significant radius if it’s just held near another ingot that size?”
Patrick shrugs.
“Don’t,” says Rachel, “ever do that again.”
Patrick’s smile vanishes from his mouth - still around his eyes, though, Jacob sees - and he gives a faux-solemn nod. “Of course.”
“May I?” asks Jacob.
Patrick passes him the ingot.
“Heavy,” says Jacob. “High mass, and it’s - painted? - to look the perfect color.” He shakes his head. “It’s not dense enough to be uranium, even if it were radioactive.”
“But it’s a convincing fake,” says Patrick.
Jacob meets Patrick’s eyes, and he knows that, whether Patrick is a real psychic or not, the two of them are most certainly thinking the same thing.
~3~
It’s halfway through the interrogation when Lisbon glances around, realizes that Patrick Jane is missing, and then, on the heels of that, sees that Jacob Hood, likewise, is nowhere to be found.
“Excuse me,” she says, holding up a hand to stop the witness. “Where the heck did they go?”
Special Agent Rachel Young frowns. “I’ll find them,” she says.
“Hey,” says the witness, “hey, where are you going?”
Rachel is back in a few minutes, proceeded by both Jane and Dr. Hood. Keeping them in front of her - Lisbon can appreciate that.
After the interview -
“I never thought I’d have to deal with two of them,” says Lisbon, aside, to Rachel.
Rachel lets a smile twist her mouth.
Allies, thinks Lisbon.
~4~
“What are you doing?” asks Jacob, as Patrick takes Jacob’s wrist, lifts his arm.
“I’m reading your mind,” says Patrick. “And I’m going to psychically determine the answer to my question.”
“What question?”
“Ssh,” says Patrick. “Look into my eyes.”
Jacob raises an eyebrow, but he obeys.
“Your mind to my mind,” intones Patrick, “your thoughts to my thoughts-”
Jacob tries - and fails - to suppress the involuntary smile.
“All right,” says Patrick, “that’s settled. Is your hotel restaurant all right, or should we go someplace nice?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said yes,” says Patrick.
A shadow flickers across Jacob’s face - a microexpression, almost too fast to see. “And why did I do that?”
“Because we have more in common than we have differences,” says Patrick. “How does your wife like the hours you keep in this job?”
Jacob really flinches, this time - would have pulled away, but Patrick kept his hold on Jacob’s arm.
“How did she die?” asks Patrick. His tone softening, soothing.
“Cancer,” Jacob says, shortly.
“My wife was murdered,” says Patrick. “Come with me to dinner.”
Jacob starts to answer -
“No, wait,” interrupts Patrick, holding up a hand. “Don’t say anything. I’m psychic, remember?”
~5~
"Interesting," says Jacob Hood, quietly, after the interrogation finishes, "how Paul Gregor managed to keep his lab assistant coming back, time and time again. She got nothing out of it; why would she keep helping him?"
Across the office, Special Agent Rachel Young leads Gregor towards the doorway; Agent Lisbon follows, a few paces behind, sour with the realization that the FBI stole away their case and their arrest.
Patrick quirks a little bit of a smile. This case has been very - educational.
"How did you know it was him?" continues Jacob, a lilt in his voice.
Patrick sprawls back on the couch. "You ever had really good sex?"
"Excuse me?" - but the performance falls a little short of truly surprised; of course Jacob already expected an inappropriate response.
"The best lovers," says Patrick, intently, "take you to the edge, over and over again." Catches eye contact, with Jacob, and he swears that Jacob's breath starts to come shorter. "Until you're half-crazy," he presses on, soft, "and you keep hoping, keep praying that this is the last time, that you'll let go this time - but the rest of you knows it's not time yet, and loves the ride."
Which doesn't just answer Jacob's question, of course. Though it does that too.
"Is that a statement of fact," returns Jacob, finally, "or a promise?"
Patrick's smile widens into a grin.
~6~
Rachel’s phone rings at 4:13 AM, by the hotel clock; Lisbon blinks, groggily, and envies Rachel’s surprisingly articulate, “Yes. Yes, sir. We’ll be there by noon.”
Predictably, as soon as the cell is closed, Rachel slips out from between the sheets. Lisbon can barely make out her shape as she gathers her blouse, her bra from the floor.
“Looks like you have a worse schedule than I do,” says Lisbon.
“Part of the job,” says Rachel. “I have to get Hood awake.”
“I should be getting back home, then.”
There’s no response, for a moment; then, “I’ll look you up,” Rachel tells her. “Next time I’m in California.”
Lisbon can hear the wry smile in Rachel’s voice.
“I’d like that,” Lisbon says. “Very much.”