Summary: Lisbon is tired of waiting for happiness, so she's taking matters into her own hands, inspiring Jane to do the same.

Disclamer: I do not own the amazingness that is The Mentalist, it's far too awesome for me to own it. I also do not own Love For Sale by the amazing Ella Fitzgerald whose lyrics I borrowed in this fic.

AN: Written for the Jello Forever February Challenge! I told you all I was on an Ella Fitzgerald kick. This story is alternating Jane and Lisbon's POV.

***

When the only sound in the empty street,
Is the heavy tread of the heavy feet
That belong to a lonesome cop
I open shop
When the moon so long has been gazing down
On the wayward ways of the wayward town.
That her smile becomes a smirk,
I go to work.

The streets were coated with the chilly rain leftover from the afternoon, reflecting the ethereal glow of the full moon peaking out from the scattered clouds. There were no street lights to help illuminate this side alley, only a string of decorative lights hung on the tops of the buildings and the soft lighting inside the small Italian restaurant.

Any normal man would be waiting inside the restaurant for their date to arrive, but then, I'm not any normal man. It's a rare occurrence to see a person's true emotions, the ones revealed only in the sanctity of solitude. I wanted to see what she truly felt about this drastic change she's decided to take. So I sit here and wait in the shadows, waiting for this heavily guarded woman to arrive. Waiting to see her unguarded smile (hopefully).

The heavy clacking of heels alert me to her presence. They're sensible heels, only about a half-inch. She's still sporting her slacks, but she's wearing a light green blouse that scoops subtly at her chest. A black trench coat sits on her shoulder, no doubt as a precaution for any more rain that might come. Yep, that's her. Always taking precautions.

A stray leaf, or flower petal, floats down from one of the overhanging flower baskets and gently lands on her shoulder. A soft smile emerges from her face as she picks it off and takes a moment to enjoy the scenery. I can't help but smile myself, I chose this spot because of it's quaint beauty. But when I see her smile shift slightly into a confident and determined smirk, I decide that her face is a much more beautiful scene to admire.

---

Love for sale...
Who will buy?

I know what people say about me behind my back. Hell, some people don't even bother saying it behind my back.

'Lonely Lisbon,' was the unofficial nickname I earned. Because I always put my job before my life. It's undeniable, I know it's true. Most of the time I was able to shrug it off. My life just played out like that. I had to put responsibility before any of my own luxuries for as long as I can remember. It's no secret really, and I just got used to it. It didn't bother me. Until about a month ago.

A case brought us to what was thought to be the murder of a woman in her mid-forties. Truth was, she was just a woman who gave all of her attention into her responsibilities. According to her co-workers, she just assumed love and a happy life would come to her when it was ready. And when love didn't come, she tried to have a child to bring herself her own happiness. Only, by then it was too late. She jumped to her death when she got the news that she couldn't conceive.

While I haven't reached my forties yet, I know that time slows down for no one. But the case shook me. It made me realize the fantasy almost every girl has of love and companionship just coming to them isn't always necessarily true.

I can't say I was able to keep all of my faith through my life, but I always kept the little faith that happiness would just come to me. It's been about twenty years, and no knight in shining armer has come my way. I've been single for so long, I've almost forgotten what it's like to have any companionship outside of work.

And frankly, I do not want to end up like that poor, lonely woman.

It was time to take matters into my own hands, I decided.

---

Who would like to sample my supply?
Who's prepared to pay the price,
For a trip to paradise?

The suicide of a lonely woman who put all of her energy in her work shook Lisbon. It wasn't hard to see why: she saw herself in her. She didn't see her traumatic past, she saw her present self, and her potential future self. And while she's been shaken by cases before, she just couldn't seem to let go of this one.

Any attempt on my part to bring her back to her senses proved futile. Every time I tried to bring back a sense of normalcy with pushing her buttons was met with either pure silence, or surrender. The all too understandable feeling seemed more painful when I saw it on her. She was doubting that she could ever find happiness. For almost a week, she did nothing but recoil into herself. And while most people didn't notice, I could see her soul spiraling into that deadly whirlpool of self pity I knew all too well.

But slowly she began to regain that confidence I always admired in her. It was a cautious, subtle confidence, but she seemed to be regaining her footing. Naturally I was curious as to what sparked this. So when she stepped out of her office, I rummaged through her email. She had joined an online dating site. I couldn't help but think about how... un-Lisbonish this was. There was no other way to explain it. I mulled it over my head while looking to Elvis for the answers.

As if the blotch on the ceiling grew arms and slapped me outside of the head for my stupidity, it dawned on me. She was taking matters into her own hands. Lisbon had managed to drag herself out of that consuming whirlpool of doubt and self pity.

I couldn't help but feel proud of this woman who seemed to defy all odds against her. The strength she always managed to find in the most helpless of situations. But this also sparked a sense of weakness in myself for not having accomplished that myself. Where Lisbon continuously seemed to succeed, I failed. I was never able to completely pull myself from my self pity and doubts of ever feeling happy again. Instead I clung onto revenge, hoping that would help me out, but always knowing it wouldn't. I clung on to a false hope, relying on revenge to pull me out instead of actually pulling myself out.

Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from this incredibly strong woman. Perhaps I should dig deep for my own personal strength and take my life into my own hands for once. I need to make my own happiness, and I think I know where to start.

---

If you want the thrill of love,
I've been through the mill of love;
Old love, new love
Every love but true love

It's not as if I've never been on a date, I just haven't been on many. I can certainly admit that I haven't been on many serious dates. So I can't help but feel I missed out on something important: how exactly was a woman in her thirties to find a date?

I've never been one to admit that I needed help, with anything. But I needed help with this. So against my feelings of disgust, I joined one of those online dating sites. I could barely contain my groans as I filled out the information they asked of me, reminding myself over and over of the woman I didn't want to turn into. A couple days after completing everything, I started receiving emails from a man named Johnny Nobleman* here in Sacramento. And after a couple of weeks of emailing, we set a date.

While I was excited to get myself out there, my concerns and impatience were biting at me. I knew I shouldn't put so much hope on one date, let alone one date with a stranger, but I was tired of being lonely. I wanted so badly for this to work. I was tired of waiting for happiness.

I found the rain that came on the day of our date exacerbating my dreaded fears. But when I found the little alleyway that the restaurant was in, a flower petal landed on my shoulder. I don't know why, but that somehow felt like a good sign to me, and I couldn't stop the smile from rising. I looked up at the full moon peaking through the clouds. It seemed to help fill me with a renewed hope.

My gaze settled on the restaurant and I decided that even if tonight didn't work out, things would be okay. I would be okay.

---

If you want to buy my wares.
Follow me and climb the stairs

I could have revealed myself right then, but her look had me paralyzed. Her figure seemed to float up the stairs to the restaurant, confidence in every movement she made. I admired the incredibly strong woman who continuously stole my attention, my heart. The woman who had unintentionally forced me to find my own strength and started helping me out of this whirlpool I've been stuck in for far too long.

The woman who I fell in love with.

It was only when the door shut behind her that I got up to follow, feeling my own confidence in every step I took.

Love for sale.

***

*John is the male variant of Jane, and Patrick means Nobleman. I was just going to make a pseudonym for Jane, but I found it incredibly difficult for his name and so gave up and did this instead.