Title: Are You Stupid, Patrick Jane?

Disclaimer: With a title like that, do you really believe Mr. Heller would willingly let me write for The Mentalist?

Rating: T

Summary: Crack!AU aftermath of 6x08, Red John. Spoilers for S6, ahoy! "What does the Internal Revenue Service have to do with you dueling Red John?"

I just want to clarify that this is pure crack. It completely disregards the deaths of several Red John suspects, just so I could write something silly. Enjoy!

Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose, before she strolled through the front doors of Sacramento General and flashed her badge to the info desk. She didn't even bother waiting for them to give her permission to step into Patrick Jane's hospital room, as she was beyond pissed at him again for having gone through yet another hair-brained scheme to rid the world of Red John.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" Lisbon asked, seething, as she crossed her arms against her chest and fixed him with a cold stare. Jane smiled at her, wires and tubes crisscrossing his pale skin as he glanced at her from his hospital bed. "Abbott is pissed, Jane…"

"He's not the only one," Jane responded, chuckling and Lisbon clenched her fists. "I'm sure I've angered the CBI, the FBI, the IRS…"

She blinked. "What does the Internal Revenue Service have to do with you dueling Red John?" Lisbon watched Jane grin at her and she grimaced. "I'm trying to keep you from getting arrested and you decide the best way to kill Red John is by dueling him?"

"Nobody appreciates a good old fashioned duel anymore, truthfully," Jane responded, before he coughed and she glared at him. She hoped he was in some form of discomfort, as she already thinking of ways to kill him after the hospital discharged him. "Oh come on, Lisbon. You knew I was eventually going to kill Red John; and you have to admit," he chuckled again. "I managed to surprise you with my methods in killing him." While she loathed admitting it, Jane's method of killing Red John had been rather…creative. She hadn't even believed it when Abbott had explained that the officers at the scene were puzzled by the notecard in Red John's pocket stating "terms to the duel to end all duels".

"So what?" Lisbon asked, tapping her foot against the tiled floor. "You figured out Red John's identity and just happened to invite him to duel with you?" Jane said nothing to her and she continued. "Did you just happen to ring up the international hotline of serial killers and ask them for his contact information? Or did you hit him with a glove?"

"Now, you're just mocking me, Lisbon," Jane answered. Lisbon rolled her eyes at his observation. "If you must know though, I didn't call him. I actually emailed him!" Lisbon noticed that Jane actually looked very proud of the fact that he had figured out how to maneuver his way around a computer, without the help of anyone on the unit and she pinched the bridge of her nose again. Why hadn't she put a parental lock on his computer when she last had the chance? "I decided to email the remaining Red John suspects and challenge them all to duels! Only McAllister replied, hence, he was obviously Red John."

Lisbon stared at him. "You sent an email to all Red John suspects and they all, aside from one, rejected your offer of a duel?" She couldn't actively believe that. Aside from Bret Stiles, she couldn't see why the remaining four suspects wouldn't have enjoyed the idea of killing the cocky consultant.

"Bret said it was "barbarian"," Jane explained with a chortle. "Smith said he had tickets to the opera, otherwise, he would have gladly accepted the offer." Jane continued to beam and Lisbon wondered if all of the punches to his nose had finally caused him some type of brain damage. "Bertram apparently was out of the office, although his response contained some lovely words about me."

"You mean the automated email response?"

Jane nodded. "You've seen it?"

"Of course," Lisbon answered, shrugging. "Bertram often turns his automated response on when he's afraid you've done something stupid…" Lisbon paused to glance at him. "…which you obviously did."

"Haffner volunteered to be my second, but I honestly think he was just trying to impress you," Jane continued and Lisbon groaned. When in the hell was Ray Haffner going to understand that she just wasn't interested in him? "I agreed and accidentally sent him the wrong instructions." The grin on his face told her that his misleading hadn't been on accident. "I truly feel horrible for sending the guy to 'Close Encounters with Arachnids'," Lisbon groaned; she'd probably be getting an email from Haffner, asking her to make him "apologize for the nightmare". "But how I was supposed to know that arachnid was a fancy word for spider, Lisbon? The English language keeps changing and…"

"Jane!" Lisbon cried.

"Don't worry, Lisbon," Jane attempted to soothe her. "I sent him a lovely holster for his gun, made out of the tiny hairs from a tarantula. I even had it monogrammed with our names." She watched his grin grow. "See? I can be thoughtful too!"

"If you weren't recovering right now from your idiotic duel, I'd tweak you on your nose," Lisbon said, grimacing. "Haffner is going to pitch a fit…"

"Or have a cow," Jane offered, helpfully and Lisbon glared at him. "I truly am sorry, Lisbon. I thought I had given him the correct directions, but I must have forgotten to print the new address for him. I'm sure it happens all the time to you!" Lisbon said nothing, as she had never sent a co-worker or nemesis to a spider-farm before. "No? Oh. I wonder if Grace would teach me how to remove the spider from my computer…"

Lisbon clenched her jaw. "Wait." Jane glanced at her. "Is that why my email signature was occupied by a spider earlier?" She had wondered why Bertram had called her, asking for a signature change, until she had stumbled upon the lovely change above her name.

"It's a smiling spider, Lisbon," Jane corrected her. "I thought your email box could use some cheering up, so I asked IT to help me out. You're welcome!" Lisbon continued to clench her jaw. "If it makes you feel any better, I changed Cho's to Grumpy Cat. Who can say no to that adorably grumpy face?" Lisbon stared at him, and then at his morphine drip.

"Are you high?"

"No, I just killed Red John," Jane replied, happily, before he glanced at her again. "What did you do today, Lisbon?"

Lisbon ignored his response. "Let me get this straight; you emailed McAllister and he agreed to duel you…"

"He just wouldn't agree to duel me in any ghost town, apparently, as I wanted an old fashioned Western duel," Jane interrupted. "I have a feeling his aversion to ghost towns deal with his fear for ghost pigeons though, so I agreed to duel him in a church."

"Because going from ghost towns to churches make logical sense?" Lisbon sardonically replied and Jane beamed. Jane's use of the word 'pigeon' sparked her memory. "Did you distract him with the pew pigeon before or after he shot you?"

Jane grimaced. "Why did you have to remind me about my bullet wound, Lisbon?"

"Because," Lisbon responded, rolling her eyes. "You were stupid enough to get shot in a duel that you instigated."

"It was a fair duel," Jane pointed out. "I had a gun and a pigeon; he had a gun." Jane paused and glanced up at the ceiling. "Actually, I probably should have offered McAllister the chance to bring an animal. I do believe he would have chosen a goat though and I'm telling you, Lisbon, my fear of goats is abnormally high..."

Just like, he apparently was at that very moment.

"Go to sleep, Jane," Lisbon told him with a sigh. "We'll talk when you wake up, okay?" Jane said nothing and added, "I'm just glad you're alright."

Jane said nothing for a few seconds, before he asked her another question. "Do you really think I'm stupid, Lisbon?"

"Yes, Jane," Lisbon said, sitting down next to him in the hard chair. "You're an idiot, but, you are my idiot."

"Even if I sent Haffner…?"

"Yes."

"Even if I challenged McAllister to a duel and won with a pigeon?"

"Even then, Jane."

"Good," Jane replied, before he closed his eyes. "Night, Teresa."

"Good night, Jane," she replied with a smile.