Oh...hey there...remember me? The person you probably hate now for not updating? *nervous laughter* I'm still alive! Here, have an update as an apology...it's worth the wait...honest...hehehe...I know its a long chapter...but trust me...you may like this chapter's cliff hanger :3

The mentalist belongs to CBS

My head belongs to the hungry readers baying for my blood D:

Chapter 6 - Red with Rage

Last chapter...

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is...you might never be able to reciprocate it. But the fact of the matter is...I think I love you Patrick Jane,"

My voice wobbled slightly, but oddly, I did feel better. He would just never know why. Standing up, my throat dry, I went to get a drink.

The woman left the room, unaware of the patient behind her. Jane's eyes flickered open, having listened to her footsteps fade as she left. He bit back the lump in his throat, emotions in turmoil, head an aching mass of conflicting thoughts.

"Maddy..." he muttered to himself.

Yes. Patrick Jane had heard it all.

"I'll ask you one more time. Where is Jimmy Walker," Rigsby asked calmly, glaring at the young man opposite him. He received a non-committal shrug in return.

"Don't know nothin',"

"We have your phone. We have evidence of both you and Jimmy at the last gang fight you attended. There's no way to hide,"

"Don't know nothin',"

"Where is Jimmy Walker?"

"Don't. Know. Nothin',"

"We have enough evidence to hold you. Officers are on their way to your house as we speak. If you speak now, we can cut you a deal,"

The thug paused for a second, as if considering the proposition.

"Get me my lawyer. Then we talk deals,"

I sighed, slouching against the glass, listening to the conversation. If Jane had been here, he'd have gotten the info already. But he was still stuck in hospital, and in no condition to interview anyone. The door rattled, and I looked up to find Lisbon entering the room. She nodded a greeting, and turned to watch the interview.

"Any luck so far?"

"Nothing, he's started asking for his lawyer, we're getting no where. Any news at the apartments?"

"Van Pelt's just arrived, we'll soon find out. You better get out to the hospital and check on Jane. I've heard that the nurses are being driven nuts,"

"Well that's no surprise," I replied with a small chuckle, before heading to grab my keys out of my desk.

As I turned the corner, a flash of red caught my eye. Sitting on my desk was another bunch of roses, this time even larger than before. I could feel a blush rising on my face and neck already, and I hurried over, grabbing the card before anyone could notice.

Hey beautiful,

Meet me for coffee next tuesday? The little cafe two blocks away, 12pm.

See you there,

M.L

Meeting for coffee? This was getting...well I had no idea what to think in truth. Should I go? Ignore it? Maybe it was time to move on. Things with Jane were going nowhere, he'd made that clear...still, it stung slightly to imagine it never passing friendship. But I suppose I'd just need to get used to that. At least he was alive after all. Making a decision to stop off on the way to the hospital for some fruit, I grabbed the roses and my keys and hurried out of the door.

The nurse at the desk gave a slightly hysterical chuckle as I double checked the ward I'd be heading to. Jane had been moved no that he was recovering. Ignoring her odd response, I took the stairs two at a time, making it to the ward in no time. And then I heard the angry whispering. Reaching a "staff only" door, I paused, listening carefully. Hey what can I say, I'm a nosy person!

He won't shut UP! Keeps asking to get out.

He told be to stop being so ignorant. Started making comments on my marriage.

He didn't!

And he told Francis that he should come out of the closet. I didn't even think he was gay!

Oh god, I can't wait until he leaves-

The door swung open, and I quickly dived forward, pretending to have only walked past. The nurses didn't seem to notice me thankfully, and I reached the room without a hitch. Jane was sitting watching the TV, eyes glazed over slightly. He turned around and gave a lazy smile when I entered.

"Grapes. How cliche,"

"Now I can see why the nurses are going mad. I'll leave again if that's what you'd prefer," I scolded lightly, plonking down on the chair beside him. "How's the leg?"

"Twinges occasionally. This morphine stuff is brilliant though, dulls the pain completely,"

"And loosens your tongue even more by the sounds of it,"

"Aww come on," He chuckled "I've only been entertaining myself,"

"At other people's expense Jane! I've said it before, I'll say it again, you need to learn some tact and control yourself! You hurt people the way you speak to them,"

He waved the comment away with a slightly giddy chuckle. He stopped, looking intently at me, blue eyes, hazy from the drugs meeting mine. And once again, I couldn't return his gaze, looking away with a blush that a school girl would have been proud of.

Another lazy chuckle. "You turn a brilliant shade of red when you blush,"

"I do not!" I snapped back, face getting redder by the second.

"And when you get angry, oh there it is, you get little frowny lines on your brow,"

"Thanks Jane. Point out my wrinkles why don't you,"

He shrugged. "It's cute,"

Oh god. My blushing face felt fit to explode. Swallowing deeply, I crossed my legs uncomfortably, trying to find something, anything, to distract me from his comments and stop the butterfly's that were in my chest.

"How's the investigation going?" Oh thank god a change of subject

"So-so. Van Pelt was checking out one of the gang members flats. We'll know more soon,"

"And your therapy sessions," As doped up as he was, I could hear that his voice was more sombre now. I grimaced.

"I missed the last one. With everything going on. I'll have one next Tuesday,"

"And you'll go?"

"I suppose I have to," I said quietly, absent mindedly running my hand down the scar on my cheek. A flash of images ran through my head. A blood stained carpet. A chipped tea cup. An old shack. I suppressed a shudder and gritted my teeth.

"I get out next tuesday,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah,"

We sat in silence after that, the mood having gotten darker, each of us in our own worlds. I vaguely realised that the radio was playing a cheesy 80s song. I zoned in for a second.

Every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever...

And suddenly I was laughing, for no reason that I could fathom. Jane looked at me, the question evident in his face, and I managed to curb my laughter to answer him.

"This song makes me feel like I'm in a cheesy 80s movie,"

He gave a slight chuckle, "Our lives have enough drama for one,"

And the mood was restored. Because things could never be too bad for too long, as long as Patrick Jane was there.

The group sat in the centre of the room, waiting. The message on the answer machine had stated that the phone would ring at 9pm on monday. The tech crew were set up, ready to trace the call. It was time to finally find Jimmy Walker.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

And then the ringing started, shrill in the silence, almost deafening. The thug sniffed, and then answered his phone."

"Yeah?"

"Dean, it's me, I'm in big trouble,"

"Jimmy man, where are you? I've been lookin' all over,"

"I can't say right now, I just need your help,"

"What's up?"

"I need you to bring the stash to the meeting spot at 11pm tomorrow. Don't be late,"

"Jimmy...Steve'll kill us if he finds us taking that stuff,"

"Yeah well, they're gonna kill me if you don't,"

"Jimmy,"

"Just do it Dean,"

The sound of the dialling tone echoed through the room. The tech gave a thumbs up, the signal had been traced. With a quick nod from Lisbon, we cleared out.

Why did today have to be so busy? Therapist session, Jane's return, my coffee date and a night time stake out. All in one day. Stress was really setting in.

It started that morning. The alarm didn't go off, and I spent my time running around, grabbing un-ironed clothes. Hair pushed into a messy bun, tripping up as I slid my shoes on, I ran out the door, slamming it as I went. The traffic had been terrible, and I'd hit every red light. Rush hour was in full flow. And now I was once again stuck in the stuffy little wood panelled office.

His little watery eyes were watching me carefully, scribbling little notes down at every possible moment. I kept my eyes down, staring at the floor, fingers running over the scar on my cheek, the same familiar line. My face was clammy, and my throat tight. Why did it have to be so hot in here? It only intensified the feeling of being trapped, making the panic rise.

"So tell me Madeline, when was the last time you had a nightmare?"

"Maddy. And it would have been last night," I admitted reluctantly.

"Can you remember what happened?"

"Started off the same as always. Sitting in the back of a van with a pare of eyes watching me. The shack. The sound of gunshots. Blood, lots of blood. Gary, talking. And his voice too. Red John's,"

"Your father's voice?"

I gulped, feeling sick. "I don't like to think of him as that,"

"You won't be able to move on until you accept your relation to him Madeline,"

"Maddy," I replied through gritted teeth.

"Of course. Go on,"

"Then it's...then it's my mother. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Dead," My voice broke, and I fought back tears. I would not cry in front of this little man.

"You still blame yourself for your mother's death?"

"If I'd gone home that night she would have been alive," I replied very quietly.

"You have no way of knowing that. Were there any additional memories in the dream?"

I cringed inwardly. "There was one. Jane getting shot, him bleeding out,"

"You've grown very attached to Mister Jane,"

"Of course. He's been very supportive," I replied

"Yes, I imagine he has. However, I sense there's more to it than that,"

"We're friends," My voice had an edge to it that suggested otherwise, but I was saved from further explanation by his little alarm going off.

"Well, we're out of time once again Madeline. I'll see you next week,"

I left without saying goodbye. This time, I couldn't get the car fast enough however. The tears were streaming down my face half way across the car park, and a passing woman gave me an odd look. My keys evaded me as I searched my bag, trying to hold back, but with a final sob I gave up, slamming my fist against the car window, sagging in defeat. Wrist throbbing, hair in my face, I jumped as my cellphone vibrated in my pocket. With a sniff, I took it out, reading the message.

Waiting with tea. Hold on in there.

Jane.

I didn't know whether to laugh or sob. With a final grudging search I had the keys, and started the car.

And true to his word, he was waiting in the kitchen area, kettle boiled, tea bag in the cup, leaning against the counter at an awkward angle, spinning his crutch in one hand. His movement was haphazard, but he was hanging in there, and didn't look as ill as he had before. His face was a healthy colour once more, and his eyes had their usual mischievous glint in them.

"You shouldn't be standing, take some wait of that leg," I told him, taking hold of his arm to guide him to the table.

I could still hear the tears in my voice, and apparently so could he. Of course, how could he miss a little detail like that. He stopped me at arms length, inspecting my face, eyes still red and puffy, and unable to meet his. But they were soon opening wide in shock as I was dragged into a one armed hug. It was gentle and warm and didn't last nearly as long as I wanted it too. He sat down stiffly , and I followed his example.

"That bad huh?"

I nodded in reply, inspecting my hand. A nasty purple bruise had risen where I'd smacked it against the car, and it was stiff to move. I looked up in time to see Jane frowning down at it. He took a sip of tea, nodding at my hand.

"How did you do that?"

"I tripped down the stairs at my apartment," I replied in an even tone. He shook his head.

"You're lying,"

"No I'm not!" I replied indignantly and he gave a snort.

"Oh come on. That was textbook. You looked off to the left, your hands were fidgeting. What did you do?"

" I was frustrated okay? I didn't intentionally punch the car!"

He shook his head, taking another sip of tea. "You need to look after yourself,"

"I am," I replied quietly.

This time he didn't point out the blatant lie.

The day passed slowly, with only paper work to do until the stake out that night. With Jane back, my main priority was keeping an eye on him, and with his leg the way it was, he wasn't going anywhere fast. At least I had time to tidy my desk. Twice. It was spotless now, and I'd found my coffee date note in my purse in the process. It was coming up for 12pm. I made a snap decision, hell, I needed something to cheer me up. It was time to find out who my secret admirer was.

I made my way to the locker room to grab my coat, informing Lisbon on the way that I'd be going out for lunch and would be back soon. It was empty when I got there, so I quickly retrieve my coat from my locker, throwing it on, nerves fluttering in my belly. Turning round to head back out of the door, I stopped. Jane was standing in the doorway, leaning on his crutch.

"Not staying for lunch?"

"Uhh no, I'm meeting someone," God, why did I have to be blushing. Again.

"Well, according to the colour of your face, it's a man," He gave a little nod. "Have fun?"

"Thanks Jane,"

Silence for a few seconds that felt more like a few minutes.

"Do you mind me asking who?"

Lie? Tell the truth? He'd know I was lying anyway. Of course he would.

"Uhh...it'-it's the guy who sent me the roses, " I don't know what reaction I was expecting. Certainly not the one I got.

I could see Jane visibly bristling, anger and disbelief in his eyes. He hobbled into the room, swinging forward on his crutch until he was so close.

"You can't go. You have no idea who this man is, you could get yourself killed,"

"Jane, what are you talking about? It's just some guy! Why are you getting all annoyed?"

"Because it might not be 'just some guy'! Have you not thought about the flowers? Red roses? A red carnation last time you were in hospital? Do you want to end up there again? Are you trying to get yourself killed,"

"Wait..." It suddenly hit me. "You think it's my fa- you think it's Red John? You're being stupid Jane! Stop being so paranoid!"

"You're the one being stupid! You think I'm paranoid? Then why does he seem to follow us everywhere? He has spies everywhere! He is always watching, he will NEVER leave us alone," his voice was low and angry.

"You are being paranoid! Why can't you just let this go? Why can't we just forget about Red John? Get on with life?"

"Forget? Of course, let's forget what he did to my family," His voice was rising now, his eyes glistening. "Forget what he did to your mother!"

That hit a nerve. "Shut up Jane,"

"Forget that he carved them up and painted the walls with their blood," His face was only inches away now as he shouted at me.

"I said SHUT UP!"

"Forget that he's your father!"

"SHUT UP!"

And he did. But not before the tears were streaming down my face and I was breathing heavily. The unspent tears sparkled at the edges of his eyes as he panted, a half mad look on his face. We were so close that our noses were almost touching. And then all coherent thoughts disappeared from my head, and before I could register what I was doing, my lips were crushed up against his. I could feel him freeze for an instant, and waited for him to pull back. But then a hand snaked around my back, pulling me closer, his lips working against mine, full of fury and emotion. Every tear I had cried in the last year, every moment of longing, of fear, of anger, were all pent up into this one moment.

And in that one moment, hands wrapped up in his curly golden hair, lips locked furiously together, my coffee date was forgotten.

Well...I hope that was worth the wait. I considered splitting this into separate chapters, but then i thought "Damn it, it's time to give them what they want. Maybe they won't kill me. As much"

It's good to be back ;)