The Right Foot Tell
The Right Foot Tell
Author: Little_Firestar
Artist: Kathiann
Link to art: here
Word Count: ~6000
Rating: T
Summary: “It’s world-wide known, Teresa: a man’s right feet always points at the woman he desires the most.” When Ellen Lisbon tells such a thing to her sister-in-law, the lady-cop doesn’t know what to believe... especially because it’s her consultant, Patrick Jane, Ellen is talking about! Of course, she has always had a crush on the man, but she had never believed that her feelings could be reciprocated. But are Jane’s feet always pointing at her by chance, or is it love?
Disclaimer: The Mentalist, created by Bruno Heller, is propriety of CBS Production; by writing this piece, I don’t claim any money.
Notes: Inspired by the Season 1 episode 5 of New Girl titled “CeCe Crashes”, where CeCe tells Jess that Nick’s feet point at her, thus showing his attraction for her. The story takes place in a Red John Free future, and doesn’t contain spoilers for the current season of the show, even if there could be small hints to past episodes.
Everybody -at least in her family - knew that Lisbon didn’t exactly like too much Ellen Morris, the woman her beloved little brother, Tommy, had had the “luck” to get married with. Strange but true, though, she didn’t exactly dislike her either. It was a complicate relationship, the one they shared. Technically speaking, Teresa couldn’t side with her (former) sister-in-law because she had been the one calling things off with the youngest Lisbon sibling. And yet, Ellen was Annie’s mother, and Annie, despite everything, loved her mother with a passion. Teresa cared for Annie almost like she was her own, and she would have done anything to make her niece happy- even dealing with the teen’s mother on a semi-regular basis. The two women didn’t look for each other company, but, almost as they were still family, they exchanged the odd call or card at Christmas, anniversaries and birthdays, and if they happened to be at the same time in same town, they made sure to let the other know. No strings attached, just out of courtesy: sometimes they did grab a drink together, sometimes not.
They weren’t friends- but they were amicable with each other, and overall they had learnt to be civil with each other despite their past. It was something that Ellen took often advantage of. She wasn’t a dumb blonde like people liked picturing her, oblivious to reality, but she appreciated Teresa’s effort, and quite frankly, she needed the cop in her life. People believed her to be vain and silly, with no heart and soul, so she had soon learnt, out of pride, to act as people expected her to. She knew it was silly, that it had the potential to ruin it all, but she couldn’t help it. Teresa was the only one she sometimes - just sometimes- was herself with for real. As sick as it was, as crazy and weird as it could sound, Teresa, her former sister-in-law, was the only confident Ellen really had. Even if Ellen really couldn’t say everything to Teresa. Talking about her love life with the woman who had raised her ex-husband? Ah! She didn’t know if it sounded more crazy or desperate.
But right now, Ellen was, indeed, desperate; desperate enough to talk with Teresa while her former sister-in-law was grocery-shopping at the discount just around her corner. And classy and up-town Ellen Morris didn’t do discounts. Not when there was people knowing her in a ten miles radius, at least.
“Ellen, really, I don’t want to know it.” Teresa said, for what felt the hundredth time that morning, while she was picking a random box of cereals from the shelf. Ellen wanted to talk with her about a man. Lisbon had never allowed such a thing before. It was one of their unspoken rules. She was supposed to know better, not be the dumb blonde people believed her to be. And Ellen wasn’t dumb- not by any chance (actually, she wasn’t even blonde, but it was another story. And something people wasn’t supposed to know about.).
“You don’t understand, Reese.” She said, sniffing, receiving a death glare from Lisbon. It was bad enough that there was people around calling her that way (Tommy, Annie, and now Jane too when he wanted to drive her crazy), but Ellen too? Of all the bad habits she could have picked up from her ex-husband, using the awful nickname was the worst one. “This isn’t about any man…”
Teresa felt like screaming. She didn’t want to hear any of this. She didn’t want to be the one telling her baby brother that his ex-wife had moved on once and for all and all his hopes of getting back together were now lost. Ellen wasn’t going to talk her into being the middle man, there was just no freaking way. Ellen wasn’t going to be her messenger: if she wanted to let Tommy know she was seeing someone and that this time it was serious, Ellen had to have the gut to do it on her own. Lisbon didn’t say a word. She just looked at Ellen sighing, with a mixed look of pleading and exasperation in her dark green eyes, hoping that the other woman would understand. But as soon as Ellen opened her moth, Teresa knew she hadn’t gotten the message.
“Reese, listen, I know you find me infuriating, ok?” Ellen admitted, sighing a little and gesticulating; was it to add emphasis or make her point, Teresa didn’t know. “For God’s sake, I find me infuriating! But, I swear, this is different, it’s not what you think. You see, the fact is…”
“Lisbon? Lisbon? Ehy, Lisbon!” As soon as she heard the male joyful voice, Teresa closed her eyes, sighing once again, palming her face with a hand. Part of her was tempted to try to run away, disappear between the hundreds of shelves, but she knew it was an impossible task, even for such a seasoned cop as her. Jane had seen her, and he could be like a kid with a shiny thing, or a cat with a mouse, a dog with a bone or… whatever, she thought. It didn’t matter. The point was, the man could get obsessive, and he had a lot of patience. She knew that there was only one or two ways to avoid a confrontation, but she didn’t want to risk having him following her around. Because that was exactly what they guy would do. A decade at his side had taught her a thing or two about Patrick Jane, after all.
“Well, well, well… hello, sweet thing. I’m Ellen, Reese’s sister-in-law. You, my dear, must be the infamous Patrick Jane.” Ellen said flirtatiously, offering the man standing now in front of them her right hand. Jane grinned, all smug, satisfied and arrogant, sending meaningful glances at Lisbon, making her blush.
“Oh, Lisbon, I’m flattered. So you talk about me all the time? Must be love, then, my dear.” He chuckled. And in that moment, Teresa felt like killing him.
“I assure you, Jane, it’s just bad things, and only once in a while, not the whole time. And, by the way?” She added, turning, extremely annoyed, to face Ellen. “You are my former sister-in-law. You divorced Tommy, remember?”
“Yeah, Reese, about that… that’s what I was trying to talk you about…you see, the fact is….”
“The fact, Reese, is that congratulations are in order. Tommy and Ellen are going to get married again. If they hadn’t done it already.” Jane suddenly said, getting involved without being asked to, and both women looked at him. Teresa was… terrorized, as she couldn’t believe such a news. Ellen, instead, was glowing, blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. Lisbon guessed it was probably the kind of reaction Jane used to get from female audience during his showman days. And also what usually happened when he talked (and flirted) with women they met for work.
“And as how I know it? Well, it’s easy. Ellen is wearing an engagement ring. The style is what I’d call late nineties. It can’t be a family ring, as it should be way older, and trust me, people looking for vintage, they would never choose a piece past 1979. I think that’s your old engagement ring, the one Tommy gave you before getting married the first time around. And now that you two are back together, you are wearing it again, like a token of your love for each other.”
Ellen didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. She simply blushed furthermore, confirming every single word Jane had just spoken.
“Ellen! Why didn’t you tell me! Why…” Teresa was on the verge of tears, her dark green eyes were already glassy. She felt betrayed, heartbroken. Even a bit ashamed, as Jane had to find out that her family didn’t apparently trust her.
“Reese, it’s not what you think, it’s just that… Tommy didn’t know how to tell you, because he knows you don’t like me that much. Trust me, I know. I told you, I’m always frustrated with myself, no wonder the others feel the same too. But he knows you are a good person, and you tolerate me, because you love Annie so much and you want for her to love and respect her mom. So he asked me to deliver the news. It’s not that we don’t trust you, or that we wanted to keep it a secret. I just… we wanted to tell you this face to face, you know? Because that’s the least you deserve. That’s all, Reese, I swear.”
Lisbon simply shook her head. She really didn’t know what to say, nor to think. It was a strange situation, but she guessed she was going to have to live with it. It wasn’t her life, nor her decision. If Tommy and Ellen wanted to get involved yet again, it was up to them. She just hoped that they were going to be more mature about it this time around, because if Annie was going to get her teenage heart crushed in the process because of those two, she wasn’t going to forgive neither Tommy or Ellen, didn’t matter how much she loved her little brother.
“Am I forgiven?” Ellen asked, tentatively, with a voice as low as Teresa had never heard before. Suddenly, it felt like she was talking with a child and not a grown up woman. Maybe Ellen really wasn’t like they had pictured her all along, Teresa considered.
“Yeah…” She admitted, accepting the crushing hug and smiling happy, her eyes no longer teary. And as she did so, Jane smiled too, one of those rare, real smiles she loved so much on her consultant’s handsome face. Jane caught her red-handed, checking him out, and she blushed furthermore. She immediately turned her face in the opposite direction as Jane chuckled, and in that moment Teresa Lisbon knew that she was ruined. There was no way that Jane was going to forget something as juicy as this. He would be teasing her mercilessly for months and months, maybe even years.
“Well ladies, as it seems that you’ve made peace with yourselves, I think it’s time for me to go.” Jane said, taking hold of Ellen’s hand once more. “Ellen, it’s been an honor knowing you. Lisbon, I guess that I’ll see you on Monday.” And with that, he was gone, with both Ellen and Teresa looking at his retreating form.
“Wow.” Ellen simply said once the aforementioned man was out of earshot.
“Yeah, I guess it’s one way to put it. But trust me, as charming as he may seem, try to work with him for just a couple of days, and I’m pretty sure you’ll change your mind.” Teresa said, laughing at her own statement, but as soon as she looked at Ellen, the cop saw that the other woman wasn’t laughing; she seemed just lost in her thoughts, like she was wondering about something.
“Actually, I was talking about the fact that he has the hots for you. That handsome devil, he so wants you!” Teresa didn’t say a word, she just stared at her former/future sister-in-law like the blonde was a kid the teacher was supposed to lecture. “What? It’s true! Don’t tell me you’ve never seen his right foot!”
Lisbon blushed, shushing Ellen and restarting yet again her grocery shopping, trying to behave like nothing had happened at all. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, and, were Ellen to ask, she wouldn’t have lied to her “relative” either: Teresa Lisbon, like any other sane heterosexual female, was indeed attracted to the “handsome devil”. And yes, she had also considered how he could look like cloth-less too many times to actually remember all of them. But checking his feet size to get an idea of how well-endowed he was? No, it was something she had never done. And she wasn’t going to do it in the future as well. It was too unprofessional. She was his boss. And it was so wrong on so many levels that she was just not contemplating such an idea.
“Ellen, shout up, now. I don’t want to hear anything about, you know, Jane's… assets. I'm his boss and what you are proposing is, well, it's rather unprofessional.” She tried to sound stern and boss-like, but the blush was proof enough that the idea had now been safely planted in her mind.
“What? I wasn’t talking about his size! I swear! I don't understand why you and your brothers always think the worst of me!"
"Really? Ok, then, what were you talking about, uh?" Teresa grunted, exasperated, finally giving in to Ellen's need to explain her theories. Not that Teresa really cared about them. She was wrong, after all. Jane didn't have the hots for her. He still wore his wedding ring, and the only woman he had slept with in a decade (and admitted having some kind of feelings for) was the mistress of the serial killer who had murdered his own family. Just this simple fact showed how complicated he was. There was no way in hell that he could fall for someone like her. She was too plain, banal, simple... in few words, she wasn't his type.
"His right foot was indicating you the whole time." Ellen simply stated, matter of fact, like it was the sanest thing that had ever left her mouth, or some kind of scientific fact that everybody was supposed to know about, like the rotation of the planets. Clearly, the woman read the disbelief on her sister-in-law's face, as she kept talking. She wasn't sure she wanted to, though, as she felt a bit betrayed. "It's true, Reese! Everybody knows it! Men point their right foot toward the woman they are sexually interested in, and women point their knees in direction of the desired male while sitting!"
"It's absurd Ellen.... I don't point my knees at Jane when we are sitting close!" As soon as the words left Teresa's mouth, she gasped, blushing, realizing her error. Never, ever deny something, because people will automatically assume that you want it. Especially if the subject hasn't been breached yet- like in her case. Sheep deep.
"Yes! Yes, I knew it! You have the hots for Jane! Reese and Jane, sitting in a tree, kissing. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage..." She started to sing-song, but Teresa stopped her, between the weird, amused or stern looks of the costumers. She had just jumped her sister-in-law, one hand on her mouth, the other firmly on her shoulder to assure full cooperation.
"Are you crazy? He could have heard you!" Teresa looked around, panicking. There was no apparent trace of Jane, but she could never be too sure. That man was probably half-animal, he could have heard Ellen from who knew where. Well, she guessed that she would have known by Monday. Jane was a tease, he would have never let it go of such a golden opportunity. Teasing her mercilessly? Patrick Jane's thing.
"Well, let's hope he did. Maybe he'll do something to erase all this UST between you two..."
"UST? You mean.... lust? Ellen, we both know you are not a dumb blonde. Don't act like one, please."
"UST, Teresa, UST! As in, unresolved sexual tension! God, woman, have you ever seen the X-Files? Or, I don’t know, read a romance novel?"
"Oh, sorry if I'm not up-to-date with all this trivia about pop culture, but have you ever seen the hours I work?" Teresa said sarcastically, mimicking Ellen's voice and tone. "Because when I come home, I don't feel like watching TV or read!"
Teresa finally let it go completely of her sister-in-law, and without adding another word, furious, she moved toward another aisle. As she went on with her shopping, though, she felt the sad puppy-dog eyes belonging to Ellen shooting at her back. It was something that Teresa couldn't handle, she didn't like the sensation. She hated when people made her feel guilty. She turned towards Ellen, ready to ask for forgiveness, to say how much sorry she was, when Ellen broke the spell, with one single sentence, and her trademark grin.
"Just watch his feet, Reese, you'll see I am right!"
Lisbon jumped out of the store, leaving her groceries - and Ellen- there. If her sister-in-law wanted to have dinner, she better had to pay for the food and bring it home.As much as she didn’t want to, the next Monday Ellen’s words were still there with Lisbon.
Thanks to God, apparently Jane hadn’t been there when her former-former sister-in-law had talked about sexual tension, otherwise, Teresa knew that Jane would have talked about it, just to make her feel a tiny bit uncomfortable. But he hadn’t. And yet, Lisbon couldn’t stop thinking about what Ellen had said. It was all about the feet-or better yet, his right foot.
Like in that moment. Jane was sitting on his couch, drinking tea from his favorite cup with his eyes closed shout, and she went to ask him about his latest theory about a case they were currently working on. Jane, instead of behaving like any other normal police consultant, patted the place next to his, and made room for her. And Lisbon, rolling her eyes- because she just had to indulge him, otherwise Patrick Jane could be merciless- sat next to him, crossing her arms.
With her eyes fixed on his right foot.
“So… The Carmichael case. I like the partner. He has means, motive, opportunity and an alibi we can’t check.”
“Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon.” He patronized her, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Just because you like him for it, it doesn’t mean he has indeed killed his financial partner. After all, there could be millions of potential killers across the whole, wide world who could have had means, motive and opportunity to kill him, and no alibi. You just don’t know them all yet.” He chuckled, taking another sip of hot tea.
“Oh, really? Then, please Jane, enlighten me on those millions of potential killers I don’t know about yet”. She almost grunted. Almost. She hated when he wanted to have the upper hand even when he couldn’t. She had solved the case and he didn’t, so? He better man up and admit defeat, for once.
“Well, dear, I don’t know the killer’s name myself yet, but I have faith the truth will be revealed to us soon enough. What I know, though, is that Carmichael’s partner didn’t do it. He is too sweaty for a murderer.” He said matter of fact.
“Maybe he was sweating because he feels guilty. I still like him for murder!” She was almost screaming. Why, why couldn’t he leave it alone, just for once? And why couldn’t she stop looking at his right foot, always pointing in her general direction?
“With all due respect, Lisbon, but as I proved myself more than once, just because polygraphs register the perspiration levels, it doesn’t mean that sweating is proof of a crime. Because if it was? It means that I’ve never lied or committed a crime in my whole life. And I think we both know that’s not it, right?” He chuckled, and finally opened his eyes, looking quizzically at her. “Seen something you like, Lisbon?” He asked. Teresa gulped down a mouthful of saliva, blushing like a shy schoolgirl with a crush for the hot quarterback.
“What? Are you out of your mind? I don’t know what you are talking about!” She hurried to reply, and without adding anything more, she got back to the solitude and safety of her office. But not without having given a last glance to Jane- he had changed position, crossing his legs. And yet, his right foot was still pointing in her direction.
They went on like nothing had happened for a couple of weeks, but still, every now and then, Lisbon tried to steal a glance at Jane’s feet, to see if Ellen’s theory about male interest could be correct. She did it whenever she could, and she was kind of getting scared that the mentalist could be on to her, as it was quite plain she was checking him out in some form. After all, she too had lost count of the times he had caught her with her mind in the clouds, ready to fall on the ground.
Like that particular day, when her car was at the garage and Jane had insisted to drive her home. Of course she had felt compelled to thank him in some sort of way, and as he was well known to forget to eat on a regular basis, she had decided to say thank you in the form of a home-cooked meal. They were grocery shopping, and Lisbon, despite her best efforts, couldn’t help it.
Her eyes always, always, fell on Jane’s right foot. And his right foot was always, always, pointing right at her. Every damn time she checked. Was it a coincidence? She didn’t know. So, maybe, she could try this out, just once or twice.
Right in the middle of the canned vegetables aisle, Teresa stopped, and once stolen a glance at his right foot (once again pointing at her), she started looking in the distance while biting her lips. She didn’t want to be obvious, but after all she was a cop, had been one for over fifteen years. She could do stealth. Definitely.
“Something on your mind?” Jane asked, clearly a bit worried. Sometimes he could be the worst. It was like one of her brothers, very over-protective of her. She shivered, feeling a tad nauseous. Ok, maybe it was time to stop thinking semi-incestuous thoughts about handsome consultants in three pieces suits.
“Yeah, it’s just that, I think I wrote something on my list this morning, and I left it in the car console, so I am not sure I am picking up everything.” She answered, dismissing with her body language the thing as it wasn’t a big deal. She moved past him, and once at his side, she turned to face Jane once again, and her eyes fell on the floor once again. And on his big feet, trapped into those monstrous shoes. His big feet pointing right at her.
“Are you sure you are all right, Lisbon? You seem rather edgy today. If you are uncomfortable with me coming over for dinner you don’t have to worry about it.” He said, smiling of his mega-watts smile. Lisbon was ready to cry. Jane was ready to give her space- thank God, as she wasn’t sure she could face him right now. Not when she had just discovered that he was attracted to her. “I promise I will be a good boy and I will not lecture you because despite being very clean, your place is a disaster.”
She sighed, and shook her head. She didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, having discovered Jane’s long buried feelings for her.
But mostly, she wasn’t sure if Ellen was right, and Jane really had feelings for her.
As the short-haired brunette left the elevator, Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose. Once upon a time, she had told everyone she knew that Jane was a pain, but now, looking in retrospective, she realized she was wrong. The woman walking in her direction was: Susanne Deport, Carmichael’s former mistress, whose surname mirrored her behavior perfectly.
In short: Susanne Deport was a beautiful, model-like, annoying bitch, with her mind set on an objective alone: getting in bed with Patrick Jane. Of course, it wasn’t like the not so much broken hearted mistress had said it at loud, but Lisbon wasn’t idiot, nor blind. The brunette had lust written all over her surgically-improved body.
“Miss…Le Bon? Could you tell me where I can find Mr. Jane?” She demanded- demanded!- matter of fact, not even bothering to look at Lisbon. God. It was Erika Flynn all over again.
“It’s Agent Lisbon, Miss Deport. And I fear I can’t have you talking with Mr. Jane…” Teresa grinned, looking with menace at the younger woman. “As you may remember, you are a person of interest in a murder investigation. And Mr. Jane- who works under me, by the way- isn’t allowed to befriend suspects.”
“Lisbon! Don’t be grumpy with poor Miss Deport!” She heard the happy and insolent voice of her consultant at her back, and saw the matching victorious grin on Susanne’s plastic and Botox-ed face. The agent sighed. It was quite obvious that Jane was playing self-match-making with an evil, young brunette with murderous tendencies again. “I am sure she has nothing to do with Carmichael’s murder. Beside, I’m sure there is nothing in that big, boring book of yours that says that I can’t have an amicable dinner with her, as I am a consultant and not an agent like you.” He chuckled, and Lisbon felt like crying. With every passing second, she felt like Ellen had been wrong all along.
“So, I guess I’ll see you when I’ll see you, Lisbon. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a nice and fancy dinner to attend in this beautiful lady’s company.” He lifted Susanne’s right hand, and kissed her knuckles tenderly, looking at her in the eyes, never breaking eye contact, not ever for a split second.
Lisbon didn’t care if he was joking. She didn’t care if it was all part of some big plan of his. He was being evil, just like those kids she used to go to school with, who made fun of her because of her parents. He was being mean. He may be acting, like he had done so many times in the past, but he knew how hurtful those words were, and he was supposed to know this. He had done the same thing when Red John was around- hurt her with words to keep her at arm’s length. And it had broken her heart. And he knew it, the bastard.
But, Lisbon realized as a silent tear run on her cheeks, what hurt the most wasn’t that. It was the fact that it didn’t look like he was acting at all. He was just mocking the ugly and masculine girl and running off with the perfect, lady-like cheerleader, just like her quarterback “boyfriend” back in high school.
It looked like Ellen’s theory about men’s feet was wrong, after all. Because Jane wasn’t interested in her. Not at all.After Susanne Deport’s brilliant arrest, Jane had tried to talk with Lisbon for over two days, but every time he finally managed to corner her, she found a way to avoid the confrontation. He was having enough of it: he didn’t know what was wrong with her, she had been strange enough after he had cold-red Ellen at the grocery store a couple of weeks before, but after he had met Carmichael’s lover, the young, fashionable, model-like Susanne Deport, she had just gotten stranger. He was almost positive he had caught her sniffing too, in a couple of occasions, and that wasn’t like Lisbon. He couldn’t deal with it any longer, it was time he faced her and she told him what was wrong with her- and between them.
Her office late at night was a safe bet. But just in case, he said his goodbye, telling her he was going back to his hotel, while instead he sat on the stairs to the attic, waiting for the moment to strike, once everyone but Lisbon were going to be back home. Once Cho and Ron- the last two to leave, as they had no family back home waiting for them- were gone, the mentalist patiently waited for another half an hour, just to make sure no one was coming back, and once he made up his mind, he barged into Lisbon’s office. Jane was resolute, and his mind was so set, that Teresa had barely had time to register someone was in her office, let alone that Jane was locking the door- taking the key-, closing the blinds and even turning her computer off.
“Jane! What do you think you…” Teresa started to say, almost shrieking, but Jane stopped her before she could end her sentence.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He almost shouted, grunting in exasperation. Lisbon looked at him with eyes wide open in shock, huge. The tone, the expression on his face, the language… until that moment, Jane had been mad only about Red John or if she did something that could get between him and his investigation concerning the crazy serial killer. Now, she was kind of dumbstruck. She didn’t know why he was so mad. Red John was dead, so, why was he so angry in the first place?
“Jane, I really… I don’t know what you are talking about.” She told him. And it was kind of the truth. Because yes, she had tip-toed around him lately, but only because of Ellen’s words and his clear attraction for Carmichael’s former mistress. And there was just no way he could be mad about this. Because, after all, it wasn’t like he cared about her feelings, right? She was just his working partner, and they only had a platonic relationship- his words.
“You don’t know?” He said, cornering her in her chair, with both his body and his presence. “You don’t know?” He repeated once again, this time a bit higher, eyes red and huge. “You don’t know, Lisbon? Then, why, why did you start acting... acting that way after I went to dinner with Susanne Deport to get her to confess her position in Carmichael’s murder?”
“I don’t…” She started, but once again he stopped her. This time, hitting with his closed fist her desk, so much that everything rattled.
He took a big breath, and shook his head. He could see he was exaggerating, and he knew it was wrong on so many levels. Poor Lisbon was even scared- God only knew what kind of awful images from her tormented childhood were visiting her mind in that moment.
“I am not stupid, Lisbon.” He calmly said, his voice so low it was a whisper barely audible over the sound of the AC. “I know that something is wrong. I know I did something, even if I don’t know yet what it is. Just tell me. Please.”
Lisbon gulped down a mouthful of saliva. Please. He had used the magic word. It was so rare, that it got to her every time he did. And like any of those times, she couldn’t refuse him anything. Teresa took a big breath, and closing her eyes, she answered his question.
“It’s… it’s because of Susanne Deport, Lorelai Martins, Erika Flynn and who knows who else.” She took another big breath, and lifting her head, she finally found the strength to meet his eyes. And yet, the only thing that Jane saw there was utter defeat. “You were attracted to them, Jane. Don’t lie.”
“What?” He asked, and then, ruffling his hair, he went to seat on the floor, his back against her desk. “Listen, I am not saying they aren’t- or weren’t- beautiful women, but I was interested in them just in… in a “I want to understand what is going through her mind and how it works” kind of way. There was no emotional involvement on my side.”
“Jane, you asked me to not threat you as a stupid, so I ask the same out of you. I know you. You like your women on the dark, dangerous and murderous side.” She snorted. Very un-lady-like, but it was just how she felt. There were just few statements that Jane couldn’t deny, and this was one of them.
“What?” He asked again, even if this time there was disbelief in his voice. She couldn’t really think that he was into that women for real, right? She was supposed to know… she had to have understood that…
He chuckled, shaking his head, smiling. “Oh, Lisbon. Those women, I wasn’t interested in them. They were interested in me. But only as far as I was willing to let them walk, I fear. Even if… well, they were all brunettes, and I do like my women- woman, actually- on the brunette side.” He chucked yet again, this time looking lovingly at her, tenderly. Teresa felt like crying. There was something he seemed to mean with his words, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe him. It was too good to be true. It could mean that she hadn’t dreamt in vain for the last decade, and she had never been that lucky before.
“Yes, but…your feet…when you were talking with Deport… it was… in her direction, and Ellen said…”
“WHAT?” He kind of screamed, yet again caging her fully with his body, his hands on her shoulders. “Lisbon, are you telling me you actually believe what Ellen, the woman who is worldwide considered a blonde idiot, and that despite not being one, claims to be a doll, told you? About my feet? What are you, five? I cold-read people for a living since kindergarten, and everybody knows that looking at a man’s right foot to understand which female he is interested in is more or less a urban legend.” He paused, chuckling lightly. “And here I thought she was checking me out. My feet. She has been looking for over two weeks at my feet. Unbelievable.”
“Yes, I know, but I thought…” She didn’t end the sentence. She just pouted. Sighing, Jane shook his head, and lifted himself, freeing her. Hands in his pockets, he stood in front of her, and looked at his feet, studying them, moving the body parts as to accommodate them in some way.
“Jane? What are you doing?” Asked Lisbon. It was better being safe than sorry, with Jane. One could never knew what could possibly go through his mind.
“One second, please.” He told her, still looking at his appendages, lifting his right index finger right under her nose. “Ok, all right, I am done. As you seem to claim that a man could only be interested in the woman he is indicating with his right foot, would you like to see who it is that I am indicating right now?”
Lisbon looked at his (annoyed) expression, than she moved her gaze along his body, ending on his feet, pointing right in front of him, at the only other human in the room. Oh. “Oh…” She felt like crying, only, she really couldn’t. She still had her pride, after all.
“Yeah, guess what? After we took down Red John, I didn’t stay because I discovered that dealing with murders on a daily basis was a cure for insomnia.” He said, at long last, rocking on his heels. “So…”
“Chinese take-away?” She asked, a bit tentatively. “We can have it here, if we don’t want to… you know. Rush things.”
He pretended to think about it, tapping with his index finger his chin. “Well, I guess I can allow you that. After all, I have already impressed you with fancy dinners and luxurious cars, so…” She pretended to be insulted, and hit him, lightly, in the ribs. “Ouch, woman, be careful!”
But soon enough, they were both laughing, leaving the room, joking and bantering like they used to. And they were both smiling, because it was such a nice beginning. And, it wasn’t like she was going to admit it out loud, ever- especially to such a pompous jerk as Jane- but she was secretly trying out her name and his surname, together, and the nicest way to tell her children about how she met their daddy.
And, God, Teresa Jane had a really, really nice ring to it.
Author: Little_Firestar
Artist: Kathiann
Link to art: here
Word Count: ~6000
Rating: T
Summary: “It’s world-wide known, Teresa: a man’s right feet always points at the woman he desires the most.” When Ellen Lisbon tells such a thing to her sister-in-law, the lady-cop doesn’t know what to believe... especially because it’s her consultant, Patrick Jane, Ellen is talking about! Of course, she has always had a crush on the man, but she had never believed that her feelings could be reciprocated. But are Jane’s feet always pointing at her by chance, or is it love?
Disclaimer: The Mentalist, created by Bruno Heller, is propriety of CBS Production; by writing this piece, I don’t claim any money.
Notes: Inspired by the Season 1 episode 5 of New Girl titled “CeCe Crashes”, where CeCe tells Jess that Nick’s feet point at her, thus showing his attraction for her. The story takes place in a Red John Free future, and doesn’t contain spoilers for the current season of the show, even if there could be small hints to past episodes.
Everybody -at least in her family - knew that Lisbon didn’t exactly like too much Ellen Morris, the woman her beloved little brother, Tommy, had had the “luck” to get married with. Strange but true, though, she didn’t exactly dislike her either. It was a complicate relationship, the one they shared. Technically speaking, Teresa couldn’t side with her (former) sister-in-law because she had been the one calling things off with the youngest Lisbon sibling. And yet, Ellen was Annie’s mother, and Annie, despite everything, loved her mother with a passion. Teresa cared for Annie almost like she was her own, and she would have done anything to make her niece happy- even dealing with the teen’s mother on a semi-regular basis. The two women didn’t look for each other company, but, almost as they were still family, they exchanged the odd call or card at Christmas, anniversaries and birthdays, and if they happened to be at the same time in same town, they made sure to let the other know. No strings attached, just out of courtesy: sometimes they did grab a drink together, sometimes not.
They weren’t friends- but they were amicable with each other, and overall they had learnt to be civil with each other despite their past. It was something that Ellen took often advantage of. She wasn’t a dumb blonde like people liked picturing her, oblivious to reality, but she appreciated Teresa’s effort, and quite frankly, she needed the cop in her life. People believed her to be vain and silly, with no heart and soul, so she had soon learnt, out of pride, to act as people expected her to. She knew it was silly, that it had the potential to ruin it all, but she couldn’t help it. Teresa was the only one she sometimes - just sometimes- was herself with for real. As sick as it was, as crazy and weird as it could sound, Teresa, her former sister-in-law, was the only confident Ellen really had. Even if Ellen really couldn’t say everything to Teresa. Talking about her love life with the woman who had raised her ex-husband? Ah! She didn’t know if it sounded more crazy or desperate.
But right now, Ellen was, indeed, desperate; desperate enough to talk with Teresa while her former sister-in-law was grocery-shopping at the discount just around her corner. And classy and up-town Ellen Morris didn’t do discounts. Not when there was people knowing her in a ten miles radius, at least.
“Ellen, really, I don’t want to know it.” Teresa said, for what felt the hundredth time that morning, while she was picking a random box of cereals from the shelf. Ellen wanted to talk with her about a man. Lisbon had never allowed such a thing before. It was one of their unspoken rules. She was supposed to know better, not be the dumb blonde people believed her to be. And Ellen wasn’t dumb- not by any chance (actually, she wasn’t even blonde, but it was another story. And something people wasn’t supposed to know about.).
“You don’t understand, Reese.” She said, sniffing, receiving a death glare from Lisbon. It was bad enough that there was people around calling her that way (Tommy, Annie, and now Jane too when he wanted to drive her crazy), but Ellen too? Of all the bad habits she could have picked up from her ex-husband, using the awful nickname was the worst one. “This isn’t about any man…”
Teresa felt like screaming. She didn’t want to hear any of this. She didn’t want to be the one telling her baby brother that his ex-wife had moved on once and for all and all his hopes of getting back together were now lost. Ellen wasn’t going to talk her into being the middle man, there was just no freaking way. Ellen wasn’t going to be her messenger: if she wanted to let Tommy know she was seeing someone and that this time it was serious, Ellen had to have the gut to do it on her own. Lisbon didn’t say a word. She just looked at Ellen sighing, with a mixed look of pleading and exasperation in her dark green eyes, hoping that the other woman would understand. But as soon as Ellen opened her moth, Teresa knew she hadn’t gotten the message.
“Reese, listen, I know you find me infuriating, ok?” Ellen admitted, sighing a little and gesticulating; was it to add emphasis or make her point, Teresa didn’t know. “For God’s sake, I find me infuriating! But, I swear, this is different, it’s not what you think. You see, the fact is…”
“Lisbon? Lisbon? Ehy, Lisbon!” As soon as she heard the male joyful voice, Teresa closed her eyes, sighing once again, palming her face with a hand. Part of her was tempted to try to run away, disappear between the hundreds of shelves, but she knew it was an impossible task, even for such a seasoned cop as her. Jane had seen her, and he could be like a kid with a shiny thing, or a cat with a mouse, a dog with a bone or… whatever, she thought. It didn’t matter. The point was, the man could get obsessive, and he had a lot of patience. She knew that there was only one or two ways to avoid a confrontation, but she didn’t want to risk having him following her around. Because that was exactly what they guy would do. A decade at his side had taught her a thing or two about Patrick Jane, after all.
“Well, well, well… hello, sweet thing. I’m Ellen, Reese’s sister-in-law. You, my dear, must be the infamous Patrick Jane.” Ellen said flirtatiously, offering the man standing now in front of them her right hand. Jane grinned, all smug, satisfied and arrogant, sending meaningful glances at Lisbon, making her blush.
“Oh, Lisbon, I’m flattered. So you talk about me all the time? Must be love, then, my dear.” He chuckled. And in that moment, Teresa felt like killing him.
“I assure you, Jane, it’s just bad things, and only once in a while, not the whole time. And, by the way?” She added, turning, extremely annoyed, to face Ellen. “You are my former sister-in-law. You divorced Tommy, remember?”
“Yeah, Reese, about that… that’s what I was trying to talk you about…you see, the fact is….”
“The fact, Reese, is that congratulations are in order. Tommy and Ellen are going to get married again. If they hadn’t done it already.” Jane suddenly said, getting involved without being asked to, and both women looked at him. Teresa was… terrorized, as she couldn’t believe such a news. Ellen, instead, was glowing, blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. Lisbon guessed it was probably the kind of reaction Jane used to get from female audience during his showman days. And also what usually happened when he talked (and flirted) with women they met for work.
“And as how I know it? Well, it’s easy. Ellen is wearing an engagement ring. The style is what I’d call late nineties. It can’t be a family ring, as it should be way older, and trust me, people looking for vintage, they would never choose a piece past 1979. I think that’s your old engagement ring, the one Tommy gave you before getting married the first time around. And now that you two are back together, you are wearing it again, like a token of your love for each other.”
Ellen didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. She simply blushed furthermore, confirming every single word Jane had just spoken.
“Ellen! Why didn’t you tell me! Why…” Teresa was on the verge of tears, her dark green eyes were already glassy. She felt betrayed, heartbroken. Even a bit ashamed, as Jane had to find out that her family didn’t apparently trust her.
“Reese, it’s not what you think, it’s just that… Tommy didn’t know how to tell you, because he knows you don’t like me that much. Trust me, I know. I told you, I’m always frustrated with myself, no wonder the others feel the same too. But he knows you are a good person, and you tolerate me, because you love Annie so much and you want for her to love and respect her mom. So he asked me to deliver the news. It’s not that we don’t trust you, or that we wanted to keep it a secret. I just… we wanted to tell you this face to face, you know? Because that’s the least you deserve. That’s all, Reese, I swear.”
Lisbon simply shook her head. She really didn’t know what to say, nor to think. It was a strange situation, but she guessed she was going to have to live with it. It wasn’t her life, nor her decision. If Tommy and Ellen wanted to get involved yet again, it was up to them. She just hoped that they were going to be more mature about it this time around, because if Annie was going to get her teenage heart crushed in the process because of those two, she wasn’t going to forgive neither Tommy or Ellen, didn’t matter how much she loved her little brother.
“Am I forgiven?” Ellen asked, tentatively, with a voice as low as Teresa had never heard before. Suddenly, it felt like she was talking with a child and not a grown up woman. Maybe Ellen really wasn’t like they had pictured her all along, Teresa considered.
“Yeah…” She admitted, accepting the crushing hug and smiling happy, her eyes no longer teary. And as she did so, Jane smiled too, one of those rare, real smiles she loved so much on her consultant’s handsome face. Jane caught her red-handed, checking him out, and she blushed furthermore. She immediately turned her face in the opposite direction as Jane chuckled, and in that moment Teresa Lisbon knew that she was ruined. There was no way that Jane was going to forget something as juicy as this. He would be teasing her mercilessly for months and months, maybe even years.
“Well ladies, as it seems that you’ve made peace with yourselves, I think it’s time for me to go.” Jane said, taking hold of Ellen’s hand once more. “Ellen, it’s been an honor knowing you. Lisbon, I guess that I’ll see you on Monday.” And with that, he was gone, with both Ellen and Teresa looking at his retreating form.
“Wow.” Ellen simply said once the aforementioned man was out of earshot.
“Yeah, I guess it’s one way to put it. But trust me, as charming as he may seem, try to work with him for just a couple of days, and I’m pretty sure you’ll change your mind.” Teresa said, laughing at her own statement, but as soon as she looked at Ellen, the cop saw that the other woman wasn’t laughing; she seemed just lost in her thoughts, like she was wondering about something.
“Actually, I was talking about the fact that he has the hots for you. That handsome devil, he so wants you!” Teresa didn’t say a word, she just stared at her former/future sister-in-law like the blonde was a kid the teacher was supposed to lecture. “What? It’s true! Don’t tell me you’ve never seen his right foot!”
Lisbon blushed, shushing Ellen and restarting yet again her grocery shopping, trying to behave like nothing had happened at all. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, and, were Ellen to ask, she wouldn’t have lied to her “relative” either: Teresa Lisbon, like any other sane heterosexual female, was indeed attracted to the “handsome devil”. And yes, she had also considered how he could look like cloth-less too many times to actually remember all of them. But checking his feet size to get an idea of how well-endowed he was? No, it was something she had never done. And she wasn’t going to do it in the future as well. It was too unprofessional. She was his boss. And it was so wrong on so many levels that she was just not contemplating such an idea.
“Ellen, shout up, now. I don’t want to hear anything about, you know, Jane's… assets. I'm his boss and what you are proposing is, well, it's rather unprofessional.” She tried to sound stern and boss-like, but the blush was proof enough that the idea had now been safely planted in her mind.
“What? I wasn’t talking about his size! I swear! I don't understand why you and your brothers always think the worst of me!"
"Really? Ok, then, what were you talking about, uh?" Teresa grunted, exasperated, finally giving in to Ellen's need to explain her theories. Not that Teresa really cared about them. She was wrong, after all. Jane didn't have the hots for her. He still wore his wedding ring, and the only woman he had slept with in a decade (and admitted having some kind of feelings for) was the mistress of the serial killer who had murdered his own family. Just this simple fact showed how complicated he was. There was no way in hell that he could fall for someone like her. She was too plain, banal, simple... in few words, she wasn't his type.
"His right foot was indicating you the whole time." Ellen simply stated, matter of fact, like it was the sanest thing that had ever left her mouth, or some kind of scientific fact that everybody was supposed to know about, like the rotation of the planets. Clearly, the woman read the disbelief on her sister-in-law's face, as she kept talking. She wasn't sure she wanted to, though, as she felt a bit betrayed. "It's true, Reese! Everybody knows it! Men point their right foot toward the woman they are sexually interested in, and women point their knees in direction of the desired male while sitting!"
"It's absurd Ellen.... I don't point my knees at Jane when we are sitting close!" As soon as the words left Teresa's mouth, she gasped, blushing, realizing her error. Never, ever deny something, because people will automatically assume that you want it. Especially if the subject hasn't been breached yet- like in her case. Sheep deep.
"Yes! Yes, I knew it! You have the hots for Jane! Reese and Jane, sitting in a tree, kissing. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage..." She started to sing-song, but Teresa stopped her, between the weird, amused or stern looks of the costumers. She had just jumped her sister-in-law, one hand on her mouth, the other firmly on her shoulder to assure full cooperation.
"Are you crazy? He could have heard you!" Teresa looked around, panicking. There was no apparent trace of Jane, but she could never be too sure. That man was probably half-animal, he could have heard Ellen from who knew where. Well, she guessed that she would have known by Monday. Jane was a tease, he would have never let it go of such a golden opportunity. Teasing her mercilessly? Patrick Jane's thing.
"Well, let's hope he did. Maybe he'll do something to erase all this UST between you two..."
"UST? You mean.... lust? Ellen, we both know you are not a dumb blonde. Don't act like one, please."
"UST, Teresa, UST! As in, unresolved sexual tension! God, woman, have you ever seen the X-Files? Or, I don’t know, read a romance novel?"
"Oh, sorry if I'm not up-to-date with all this trivia about pop culture, but have you ever seen the hours I work?" Teresa said sarcastically, mimicking Ellen's voice and tone. "Because when I come home, I don't feel like watching TV or read!"
Teresa finally let it go completely of her sister-in-law, and without adding another word, furious, she moved toward another aisle. As she went on with her shopping, though, she felt the sad puppy-dog eyes belonging to Ellen shooting at her back. It was something that Teresa couldn't handle, she didn't like the sensation. She hated when people made her feel guilty. She turned towards Ellen, ready to ask for forgiveness, to say how much sorry she was, when Ellen broke the spell, with one single sentence, and her trademark grin.
"Just watch his feet, Reese, you'll see I am right!"
Lisbon jumped out of the store, leaving her groceries - and Ellen- there. If her sister-in-law wanted to have dinner, she better had to pay for the food and bring it home.As much as she didn’t want to, the next Monday Ellen’s words were still there with Lisbon.
Thanks to God, apparently Jane hadn’t been there when her former-former sister-in-law had talked about sexual tension, otherwise, Teresa knew that Jane would have talked about it, just to make her feel a tiny bit uncomfortable. But he hadn’t. And yet, Lisbon couldn’t stop thinking about what Ellen had said. It was all about the feet-or better yet, his right foot.
Like in that moment. Jane was sitting on his couch, drinking tea from his favorite cup with his eyes closed shout, and she went to ask him about his latest theory about a case they were currently working on. Jane, instead of behaving like any other normal police consultant, patted the place next to his, and made room for her. And Lisbon, rolling her eyes- because she just had to indulge him, otherwise Patrick Jane could be merciless- sat next to him, crossing her arms.
With her eyes fixed on his right foot.
“So… The Carmichael case. I like the partner. He has means, motive, opportunity and an alibi we can’t check.”
“Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon.” He patronized her, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Just because you like him for it, it doesn’t mean he has indeed killed his financial partner. After all, there could be millions of potential killers across the whole, wide world who could have had means, motive and opportunity to kill him, and no alibi. You just don’t know them all yet.” He chuckled, taking another sip of hot tea.
“Oh, really? Then, please Jane, enlighten me on those millions of potential killers I don’t know about yet”. She almost grunted. Almost. She hated when he wanted to have the upper hand even when he couldn’t. She had solved the case and he didn’t, so? He better man up and admit defeat, for once.
“Well, dear, I don’t know the killer’s name myself yet, but I have faith the truth will be revealed to us soon enough. What I know, though, is that Carmichael’s partner didn’t do it. He is too sweaty for a murderer.” He said matter of fact.
“Maybe he was sweating because he feels guilty. I still like him for murder!” She was almost screaming. Why, why couldn’t he leave it alone, just for once? And why couldn’t she stop looking at his right foot, always pointing in her general direction?
“With all due respect, Lisbon, but as I proved myself more than once, just because polygraphs register the perspiration levels, it doesn’t mean that sweating is proof of a crime. Because if it was? It means that I’ve never lied or committed a crime in my whole life. And I think we both know that’s not it, right?” He chuckled, and finally opened his eyes, looking quizzically at her. “Seen something you like, Lisbon?” He asked. Teresa gulped down a mouthful of saliva, blushing like a shy schoolgirl with a crush for the hot quarterback.
“What? Are you out of your mind? I don’t know what you are talking about!” She hurried to reply, and without adding anything more, she got back to the solitude and safety of her office. But not without having given a last glance to Jane- he had changed position, crossing his legs. And yet, his right foot was still pointing in her direction.
They went on like nothing had happened for a couple of weeks, but still, every now and then, Lisbon tried to steal a glance at Jane’s feet, to see if Ellen’s theory about male interest could be correct. She did it whenever she could, and she was kind of getting scared that the mentalist could be on to her, as it was quite plain she was checking him out in some form. After all, she too had lost count of the times he had caught her with her mind in the clouds, ready to fall on the ground.
Like that particular day, when her car was at the garage and Jane had insisted to drive her home. Of course she had felt compelled to thank him in some sort of way, and as he was well known to forget to eat on a regular basis, she had decided to say thank you in the form of a home-cooked meal. They were grocery shopping, and Lisbon, despite her best efforts, couldn’t help it.
Her eyes always, always, fell on Jane’s right foot. And his right foot was always, always, pointing right at her. Every damn time she checked. Was it a coincidence? She didn’t know. So, maybe, she could try this out, just once or twice.
Right in the middle of the canned vegetables aisle, Teresa stopped, and once stolen a glance at his right foot (once again pointing at her), she started looking in the distance while biting her lips. She didn’t want to be obvious, but after all she was a cop, had been one for over fifteen years. She could do stealth. Definitely.
“Something on your mind?” Jane asked, clearly a bit worried. Sometimes he could be the worst. It was like one of her brothers, very over-protective of her. She shivered, feeling a tad nauseous. Ok, maybe it was time to stop thinking semi-incestuous thoughts about handsome consultants in three pieces suits.
“Yeah, it’s just that, I think I wrote something on my list this morning, and I left it in the car console, so I am not sure I am picking up everything.” She answered, dismissing with her body language the thing as it wasn’t a big deal. She moved past him, and once at his side, she turned to face Jane once again, and her eyes fell on the floor once again. And on his big feet, trapped into those monstrous shoes. His big feet pointing right at her.
“Are you sure you are all right, Lisbon? You seem rather edgy today. If you are uncomfortable with me coming over for dinner you don’t have to worry about it.” He said, smiling of his mega-watts smile. Lisbon was ready to cry. Jane was ready to give her space- thank God, as she wasn’t sure she could face him right now. Not when she had just discovered that he was attracted to her. “I promise I will be a good boy and I will not lecture you because despite being very clean, your place is a disaster.”
She sighed, and shook her head. She didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing, having discovered Jane’s long buried feelings for her.
But mostly, she wasn’t sure if Ellen was right, and Jane really had feelings for her.
As the short-haired brunette left the elevator, Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose. Once upon a time, she had told everyone she knew that Jane was a pain, but now, looking in retrospective, she realized she was wrong. The woman walking in her direction was: Susanne Deport, Carmichael’s former mistress, whose surname mirrored her behavior perfectly.
In short: Susanne Deport was a beautiful, model-like, annoying bitch, with her mind set on an objective alone: getting in bed with Patrick Jane. Of course, it wasn’t like the not so much broken hearted mistress had said it at loud, but Lisbon wasn’t idiot, nor blind. The brunette had lust written all over her surgically-improved body.
“Miss…Le Bon? Could you tell me where I can find Mr. Jane?” She demanded- demanded!- matter of fact, not even bothering to look at Lisbon. God. It was Erika Flynn all over again.
“It’s Agent Lisbon, Miss Deport. And I fear I can’t have you talking with Mr. Jane…” Teresa grinned, looking with menace at the younger woman. “As you may remember, you are a person of interest in a murder investigation. And Mr. Jane- who works under me, by the way- isn’t allowed to befriend suspects.”
“Lisbon! Don’t be grumpy with poor Miss Deport!” She heard the happy and insolent voice of her consultant at her back, and saw the matching victorious grin on Susanne’s plastic and Botox-ed face. The agent sighed. It was quite obvious that Jane was playing self-match-making with an evil, young brunette with murderous tendencies again. “I am sure she has nothing to do with Carmichael’s murder. Beside, I’m sure there is nothing in that big, boring book of yours that says that I can’t have an amicable dinner with her, as I am a consultant and not an agent like you.” He chuckled, and Lisbon felt like crying. With every passing second, she felt like Ellen had been wrong all along.
“So, I guess I’ll see you when I’ll see you, Lisbon. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a nice and fancy dinner to attend in this beautiful lady’s company.” He lifted Susanne’s right hand, and kissed her knuckles tenderly, looking at her in the eyes, never breaking eye contact, not ever for a split second.
Lisbon didn’t care if he was joking. She didn’t care if it was all part of some big plan of his. He was being evil, just like those kids she used to go to school with, who made fun of her because of her parents. He was being mean. He may be acting, like he had done so many times in the past, but he knew how hurtful those words were, and he was supposed to know this. He had done the same thing when Red John was around- hurt her with words to keep her at arm’s length. And it had broken her heart. And he knew it, the bastard.
But, Lisbon realized as a silent tear run on her cheeks, what hurt the most wasn’t that. It was the fact that it didn’t look like he was acting at all. He was just mocking the ugly and masculine girl and running off with the perfect, lady-like cheerleader, just like her quarterback “boyfriend” back in high school.
It looked like Ellen’s theory about men’s feet was wrong, after all. Because Jane wasn’t interested in her. Not at all.After Susanne Deport’s brilliant arrest, Jane had tried to talk with Lisbon for over two days, but every time he finally managed to corner her, she found a way to avoid the confrontation. He was having enough of it: he didn’t know what was wrong with her, she had been strange enough after he had cold-red Ellen at the grocery store a couple of weeks before, but after he had met Carmichael’s lover, the young, fashionable, model-like Susanne Deport, she had just gotten stranger. He was almost positive he had caught her sniffing too, in a couple of occasions, and that wasn’t like Lisbon. He couldn’t deal with it any longer, it was time he faced her and she told him what was wrong with her- and between them.
Her office late at night was a safe bet. But just in case, he said his goodbye, telling her he was going back to his hotel, while instead he sat on the stairs to the attic, waiting for the moment to strike, once everyone but Lisbon were going to be back home. Once Cho and Ron- the last two to leave, as they had no family back home waiting for them- were gone, the mentalist patiently waited for another half an hour, just to make sure no one was coming back, and once he made up his mind, he barged into Lisbon’s office. Jane was resolute, and his mind was so set, that Teresa had barely had time to register someone was in her office, let alone that Jane was locking the door- taking the key-, closing the blinds and even turning her computer off.
“Jane! What do you think you…” Teresa started to say, almost shrieking, but Jane stopped her before she could end her sentence.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He almost shouted, grunting in exasperation. Lisbon looked at him with eyes wide open in shock, huge. The tone, the expression on his face, the language… until that moment, Jane had been mad only about Red John or if she did something that could get between him and his investigation concerning the crazy serial killer. Now, she was kind of dumbstruck. She didn’t know why he was so mad. Red John was dead, so, why was he so angry in the first place?
“Jane, I really… I don’t know what you are talking about.” She told him. And it was kind of the truth. Because yes, she had tip-toed around him lately, but only because of Ellen’s words and his clear attraction for Carmichael’s former mistress. And there was just no way he could be mad about this. Because, after all, it wasn’t like he cared about her feelings, right? She was just his working partner, and they only had a platonic relationship- his words.
“You don’t know?” He said, cornering her in her chair, with both his body and his presence. “You don’t know?” He repeated once again, this time a bit higher, eyes red and huge. “You don’t know, Lisbon? Then, why, why did you start acting... acting that way after I went to dinner with Susanne Deport to get her to confess her position in Carmichael’s murder?”
“I don’t…” She started, but once again he stopped her. This time, hitting with his closed fist her desk, so much that everything rattled.
He took a big breath, and shook his head. He could see he was exaggerating, and he knew it was wrong on so many levels. Poor Lisbon was even scared- God only knew what kind of awful images from her tormented childhood were visiting her mind in that moment.
“I am not stupid, Lisbon.” He calmly said, his voice so low it was a whisper barely audible over the sound of the AC. “I know that something is wrong. I know I did something, even if I don’t know yet what it is. Just tell me. Please.”
Lisbon gulped down a mouthful of saliva. Please. He had used the magic word. It was so rare, that it got to her every time he did. And like any of those times, she couldn’t refuse him anything. Teresa took a big breath, and closing her eyes, she answered his question.
“It’s… it’s because of Susanne Deport, Lorelai Martins, Erika Flynn and who knows who else.” She took another big breath, and lifting her head, she finally found the strength to meet his eyes. And yet, the only thing that Jane saw there was utter defeat. “You were attracted to them, Jane. Don’t lie.”
“What?” He asked, and then, ruffling his hair, he went to seat on the floor, his back against her desk. “Listen, I am not saying they aren’t- or weren’t- beautiful women, but I was interested in them just in… in a “I want to understand what is going through her mind and how it works” kind of way. There was no emotional involvement on my side.”
“Jane, you asked me to not threat you as a stupid, so I ask the same out of you. I know you. You like your women on the dark, dangerous and murderous side.” She snorted. Very un-lady-like, but it was just how she felt. There were just few statements that Jane couldn’t deny, and this was one of them.
“What?” He asked again, even if this time there was disbelief in his voice. She couldn’t really think that he was into that women for real, right? She was supposed to know… she had to have understood that…
He chuckled, shaking his head, smiling. “Oh, Lisbon. Those women, I wasn’t interested in them. They were interested in me. But only as far as I was willing to let them walk, I fear. Even if… well, they were all brunettes, and I do like my women- woman, actually- on the brunette side.” He chucked yet again, this time looking lovingly at her, tenderly. Teresa felt like crying. There was something he seemed to mean with his words, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe him. It was too good to be true. It could mean that she hadn’t dreamt in vain for the last decade, and she had never been that lucky before.
“Yes, but…your feet…when you were talking with Deport… it was… in her direction, and Ellen said…”
“WHAT?” He kind of screamed, yet again caging her fully with his body, his hands on her shoulders. “Lisbon, are you telling me you actually believe what Ellen, the woman who is worldwide considered a blonde idiot, and that despite not being one, claims to be a doll, told you? About my feet? What are you, five? I cold-read people for a living since kindergarten, and everybody knows that looking at a man’s right foot to understand which female he is interested in is more or less a urban legend.” He paused, chuckling lightly. “And here I thought she was checking me out. My feet. She has been looking for over two weeks at my feet. Unbelievable.”
“Yes, I know, but I thought…” She didn’t end the sentence. She just pouted. Sighing, Jane shook his head, and lifted himself, freeing her. Hands in his pockets, he stood in front of her, and looked at his feet, studying them, moving the body parts as to accommodate them in some way.
“Jane? What are you doing?” Asked Lisbon. It was better being safe than sorry, with Jane. One could never knew what could possibly go through his mind.
“One second, please.” He told her, still looking at his appendages, lifting his right index finger right under her nose. “Ok, all right, I am done. As you seem to claim that a man could only be interested in the woman he is indicating with his right foot, would you like to see who it is that I am indicating right now?”
Lisbon looked at his (annoyed) expression, than she moved her gaze along his body, ending on his feet, pointing right in front of him, at the only other human in the room. Oh. “Oh…” She felt like crying, only, she really couldn’t. She still had her pride, after all.
“Yeah, guess what? After we took down Red John, I didn’t stay because I discovered that dealing with murders on a daily basis was a cure for insomnia.” He said, at long last, rocking on his heels. “So…”
“Chinese take-away?” She asked, a bit tentatively. “We can have it here, if we don’t want to… you know. Rush things.”
He pretended to think about it, tapping with his index finger his chin. “Well, I guess I can allow you that. After all, I have already impressed you with fancy dinners and luxurious cars, so…” She pretended to be insulted, and hit him, lightly, in the ribs. “Ouch, woman, be careful!”
But soon enough, they were both laughing, leaving the room, joking and bantering like they used to. And they were both smiling, because it was such a nice beginning. And, it wasn’t like she was going to admit it out loud, ever- especially to such a pompous jerk as Jane- but she was secretly trying out her name and his surname, together, and the nicest way to tell her children about how she met their daddy.
And, God, Teresa Jane had a really, really nice ring to it.