Unchained Melodies

Summary: He doesn't exactly remember what happened over the past twenty-four hours, it's a blur and he knows that whatever he's done; it can't be too bad. L/J

Disclaimer: I obviously still don't own The Mentalist.

Spoilers: Set somewhere in S2.

Warnings: Language.

A/N:

I think I have pleased the plot bunny gods because yesterday, I was attacked by stray lettuce in the produce section of the grocery store.

Prologue

He doesn't remember, and he's sleeping next to someone.

He doesn't feel any regret, any feelings what-so-ever.

He does feel the bed beneath him, and the hot breath on his neck.

It's been forever since he's been with someone, and he can't remember it?

He refuses to move for a few more seconds, until curiosity over takes him and slowly he maneuvers his body to where he thinks he can turn without waking whoever is sharing the bed with him. His eyes remained closed, anticipating and suddenly, he can't take it anymore and he throws all caution to the wind only to open his eyes.

He wishes he hadn't, because how is he going to explain to anyone; why Teresa Lisbon, Senior Agent of the Special Crimes Unit is lying right next to him?

Hell, forget everyone else, how is he going to explain it to her?