A Mentalist fanfiction (Patrick Jane)

Action, Finally - A Mentalist fanfiction (Patrick Jane)

CHARLOTTE'S P.O.V

(7:35pm)

"You're nervous again," Jane chuckled as he swung a thick, heavy coat around my shoulders and helped me into it. I shot him an 'are you serious?' look and he smiled and winked before pushing dark glasses onto my nose.

"Are you sure this isn't over the top?" I muttered as the room became considerably darker. Jane grinned and spun me around, twisting my long, bright blue hair up into a knot on the top of my head and jamming a beanie over it.

"It's so overt, it's covert, Charlotte." His breath danced over my now exposed neck and I shivered, turning around slowly to be greeted with a wide, sly smile. "It's really your hair that needs to be hidden anyway, electric blue is kind of a tell-tale sign." I looked away bashfully and shrugged.

"Are you ready?" It had all felt like a joke up until now and I twisted my hands together, trying to steady my suddenly uneven breathing. After a moment, I nodded.

"Yes." Jane threw an arm over my shoulders and pushed the door open.

"Excellent, lets go." Despite the semi-lateness of the time, it didn't appear as though anyone had gone home, and nervousness threatened to freeze me where I was. But Jane's sure smile, expectant eyes and steerinf arm continued to guide me through the hallways and out into a small lobby area in which an empty elevator shaft waited.

"After you," Jane smiled, gesturing forward, and I took a hesitant step inside. He followed with a quick grace and the doors slid smoothly shut, just as two agents appeared on the scene, both laughing at some unheard joke.

I tried to stifle my panic by concentrating on Jane, the relaxed way he held his body and his sure, knowing smile. I timed my breathing with his and watched his calm, blinking eyes, eyelashes throwing slight shadows down his cheeks, caramel curls springing gently from his forehead and the nape of his neck.

Before long breathing was much easier and my hands had stopped quivering, and all I longed to do was stroke Jane's jaw, feel the smooth-rough texture that I was sure his stubble would be and the pink, glassy perfection that was his lips.

Something 'ding'ed brightly and the doors were opening, even more fake light flooding the small space. I was going to get a headache from all this fluorescent lighting.

Removing his arm from my shoulders, Jane suddenly decided that he preferred my arm looped through his as he tugged me through the bottom level of the building.

My last visit here was a very vague memory, filled with confusion and tears at being arrested for my baby sisters murder.

Jane flashed his identification card to the security guard and nonchalantly gestured to me with a small smile, as if to say 'you don't want to know'. My stomach churned uncomfortably.

It was over like that and Jane pulled me outside. I squinted as a fiery sunset hit my eyes, suddenly grateful for the shades to block the brightness.

"Is this yours?" I hissed when Jane stopped us in front of a blue, old fashioned and seriously cute car. He flashed me a smile and nodded, unlocking my door and opening it for me before walking around to the other side and getting in.

"It's beautiful," I breathed as the leather seat enveloped me, the thick smell taking over my senses. I sighed. "Beautiful, Jane." He made a satisfied noise at his name.

"That's better," he chuckled, "And thank you. I'm rather partial to her himself." The engine purred beautifully when he started her up and pulled out of the parking space. He didn't even check the traffic as he pulled out onto the road and I shrunk into the seat, the jolt of Jane's risky driving not helping with the panic I was trying to erase.

"Are you alright Charlotte? You're as pale as a ghost." Jane's finger's made light contact with my wrist, assessing my pulse, and forehead, a frown pulling at the edges of his mouth.

"Your anxiety disorder is much more serious than I first imagined. We won't be doing that again," he laughed lightly, and the sound stole a begrudging smile from my lips.

"Where are we going?" I asked a few minutes later, suddenly realising I had neglected to find out details on this part of the plan. Panic started to bubble in me again, unitl Jane made a soft, soothing noise.

"My house," he stated simply, and I was shocked into silence.His house? The Patrick Jane's house? I was staying with him? Alone? 

Several emotions burst through my chest; shyness, nervousness, giddiness, confusion, excitement... I cautiously thought through different reactions and settled for the safest one I could find.

"Won't Agent Lisbon think of that though?" I questioned, and Jane raised and eyebrow. "I mean, after what she saw, you know, between us... Won't she suspect you of helping me escape? And so, wouldn't your place be the first place they check for me?"

"Ah." Jane chuckled in understanding and shook his head, an amused smile touching his lips. "No. You see Charlotte, they credit me far too much. Once they begin suspecting me they will assume I have elaborate scheme to keep you extremely hidden, and will therefore follow the most complex clue or lead they can find." Jane grinned. "When in actual fact you're hidden in plain sight, at my home."

He continued to smirk without looking at me, and my stomach flipped. Instead of trying to think of another response and potentially making a fool out of myself, I pulled the sunglasses off and tucked them into the jacket pocket, followed by the beanie, and pulled my arms out of it slowly. 

I pulled my hair out of it's bun and shook it out around my shoulders, absently playing with the tendrals of blue.

"Exquisite. Your hair is simply exquisite Charlotte." I blushed furiously but smiled politely at Jane, who met my gaze with a happy, playful air.