Hey everybody! I'm Jenn and this is my first ever Mentalist fic. I've been reading heaps of fics but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone after I saw 'Carnelian, Inc.' for the first time, so my best friend kicked my butt until I wrote it down. Thanks Taimi :) I'm kind of anxious about posting it because the more i read it the more it seems OOC and stuff. But I hope it's not. Hope you guys all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, I would be on the show. Not writing about it :P

It was Lisbon's night out.

Every few months, after a particularly difficult case, she'd allow herself one night to let loose. She'd go to a bar (or if she was feeling particularly energetic, a club), have a few drinks, flirt with strangers – just generally let go. She wanted to forget about her childhood, forget about her job and the victims she couldn't save, forget about being the tough-as-nails CBI Agent, and just be somebody else.

And tonight was the night.

She decided against going to a club (she wasn't in the mood for dancing) but headed towards a bar on the other side of Sacramento. She always made sure that wherever she went was far away from the homes of her team, to minimize the chances of getting caught. She knew what she was doing was out of character for her, and she would probably lose the respect of her agents if they knew that this was how she coped with the pressure. Going to bars and drinking, getting flirted with by various men and reciprocating their attentions – it all helped her to lose herself. And the men were essential to that. She enjoyed having men hitting on her, competing to see who she'd spend her time with. It made her feel wanted. Almost half the time she went out now, she found herself making out with whoever she'd picked up for the night before she was even at her second drink.

It was out of character for her, she knew. But she couldn't stop it. And the next morning she could never rationalise it.

But tonight was one of those nights. She couldn't hold out anymore, she needed her outlet. And she was going to get it. She walked casually into the bar, immediately looking around to get the feel of the place. It had a pleasant atmosphere to it. It wasn't like most of the bars she went to, filled with smoke and beer and bad country music. This one was cleaner, friendlier, and had better music.

As she approached the bartender, she could already feel the men's eyes on her. She knew she wasn't the prettiest woman around, but tonight she knew she looked good. She wore a short, dark blue dress with a black rose pattern on it, black heels and smoky eye make-up. The dress showed just enough cleavage to distract, and the heels combined with the short length of the dress made it seem as if her legs went on for miles. She was dressed to impress, and by the facial expressions of those near her, she seemed to be doing well. Just as she was about to order, she felt a slight tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I might be able to buy you a drink?"

He was fairly good-looking – mid 30s with that slightly rugged quality about him – and she figured he'd be a good companion for the night. She smiled. "Sure."

He smiled back at her and turned to the bartender. "I'll have another beer and for the lady..." he trailed off and waited for her to order.

"Midori and lemonade," she answered, seeing the bartender nod and begin pouring the drinks.

"So what's your name?" Her new companion asked her.

"Teresa." She smiled and tossed her hair. "And yours?"

"Michael."

The bartender passed them their drinks and Michael put his hand on the small of her back and led her to a table. He set his beer down hurriedly before pulling out a stool for her to sit on. She was pleasantly surprised by this, and allowed it to show on her face.

"Gallantry is back," she said, adding a flirtatious smile for effect. He smiled back at her and winked before taking his own seat across from her.

"So Teresa, what do you do?"

This was the question that always came up, and she'd learned from the first few times she went out that saying she worked for the CBI immediately ended conversations. Even completely innocent people stopped speaking or tensed up in fear of doing or saying something that could get them arrested. She'd learned from her mistake fairly quickly.

"I'm a photographer. And you? What do you do?"

He waved off her question, laughing. "Oh nothing as glamorous as that I assure you. So you're really a photographer? A professional? What kind of photos do you do?"

"Well, I wouldn't consider myself professional quite yet, but I take landscape pictures. I've always loved nature and with my photos I try to show everybody else just how beautiful our world can be."

He smiled. "That sounds amazing."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, trying to seem more shy and girly. "Thank you, but I promise it's not as good as it sounds."

The small talk continued and they both finished off their first drinks and ordered a second. Halfway through their second drink, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. She pushed her way through the bustling crowd near the bar and finally made it to the quiet of the restrooms. Her eyes closed as she allowed herself a moment to soak up the lack of noise. It was wonderful. As she washed her hands, she examined her face in the mirror. She'd put lots of make-up on before leaving her apartment, but it wasn't quite enough to cover the bags under her eyes. No doubt the result of one of Jane's latest escapades. His complete disregard for the rules caused her a lot of trouble, and she swore he was taking years off her expected lifespan with every new case that came along. She sighed. He was half the reason she had these nights out. Sure he caused her endless trouble at work, but she was still incredibly fond of him. More than she should be. His was a tragic story, and she was falling for a broken man. Yet another reason to go out and let loose. She dried her hands and smiled again, preparing herself to go back out there. Michael was waiting for her.

As she exited the bathroom, she wove through the crowd once more to sit back down at the table.

"So, where were we?" She asked, smiling and tossing her hair once more. She reached for her drink and took a long sip.

Michael grinned and reminded her of their earlier conversation about music. She tried to relax as she settled back into the conversation, but couldn't understand why she suddenly felt like something was wrong. Just ten minutes ago she'd been thinking about what a good find Michael was, how they had such similar tastes in television and music. He was very easy to talk to and he made her laugh frequently. So why were her instincts telling her to get out of there? She took another sip of her drink and tried to focus on his words.

"...and so I really do think that 'Viva La Vida' is Coldplay's best single so far."

Why was she having such a hard time concentrating? She'd been fine before she went to the bathroom...

"Teresa? Are you okay?"

She started to feel dizzy and tried to remember. When she'd returned from the bathroom she'd sat back down and taken another sip of her drink...

Her head snapped up and her eyes widened in understanding. Her drink had been spiked. Michael had spiked her drink. She needed to get out of there, but she couldn't go outside. She knew she only had a small amount of time before she lost the ability to think clearly or defend herself, and she couldn't be by herself when that happened.

"I think I dropped something in the bathroom. Sorry. I'll be right back."

He smiled at her as she excused herself once again. She was horrified to find herself stumbling on the way to the bathroom. She hesitated at the door to the Ladies' and instead went into the Disabled bathroom. It was just one big stall, and so the door could lock everybody out completely. In the Ladies bathroom, there was a gap at the bottom of the stalls and if she was unconscious it would be all too easy to slide her body out from under it...

Her hands fumbled with the clasp on her purse. She needed help. But who to call? Immediately the faces of her team came to mind. She knew they would help her, and yet she still didn't want them to know. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt ... she could imagine the disillusionment on Grace's face when she realised what her boss had been doing.

And then she had a moment of inspiration. She remembered the day she and Jane had been eating fruit by his car, and discussing trust. He'd said he trusted her and she said she didn't trust him. He hadn't been able to accept that for an answer, and while the conversation had been light-hearted, she remembered when he turned serious. He'd bent down to be eye-to-eye with her and said;

"Lisbon. I want you to know that you can trust me. No matter what happens, I will be there for you. I will. I need you to know that."

She'd been stunned. It had seemed so important to him that she understood. Well she did understand, but she'd never thought that one day she might need to take him up on his offer. But circumstances had changed. She considered the idea of calling him. Of all the people on her team, Jane would be the last person she'd want to find out about her night-time outings. He'd read way too much into it, and draw conclusions about her that were way too close to the truth for her comfort.

But she knew she needed to push that aside. This wasn't about her comfort. This was about her safety, and the only question she needed to ask herself was if she trusted Jane with this. She was becoming more and more vulnerable with every minute that passed, and recognised her own symptoms as those of being under the effects of a date rape drug. Did she trust Jane to help her? To come and find her, care for her, and protect her when she was at her most vulnerable?

Yes.

She hit the first speed dial on her cellphone and waited as it rang.

"Hey Lisbon! I only saw you at the office a few hours ago. Miss me already?"

"Jane?" She fought back tears when she heard how slurred her voice had become. The drug was working faster than she anticipated. "I need you."

She sensed that he immediately grasped the fact that something was seriously wrong and she could practically see him reaching for his car keys. "Lisbon? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Disabled bathroom. Bar on Norlana St. Guy spiked my drink." She heard his car start up in the background and she slumped against the door, having trouble supporting her own weight. "Hurry Jane."

"I'm coming as fast as I can. Just describe to me how you're feeling okay? What do you think it was?"

She groaned. It felt like too much of an effort, but she knew she had to try and tell him. "My head's all fuzzy. I can't stand up." She slid down to the floor, leaning her head back against the door. How had she gotten herself into this mess? She was a police officer. An agent with the CBI! Why didn't she think that he might have spiked her drink. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"That's just like any drug Lisbon. What else?"

Her eyes fluttered shut and she wrenched them back open at his words. She was so tired, but she knew she needed to stay awake. "I'm really tired, Jane. I wanna to go to sleep." She faintly heard his car rev as he pushed the accelerator harder. She wanted to tell him to drive more carefully (she didn't want him to get hurt too) but she didn't have the energy.

"I know but you've gotta stay awake, okay? I'm almost there. Just five more minutes."

"Hurry up," she moaned. She felt like she was too exhausted to breathe. "I'm too tired to breathe," she said. Jane tightened his hands on the wheel. He only needed a couple more minutes and then he would be there.

"You're gonna be okay, Lisbon. I'm almost there. Just keep talking to me, okay?"

"Mmm," she murmured her agreement.

"Lisbon, do you know who did it? Who drugged you?"

"Michael," she said slowly and she felt the familiar simmering of anger in her veins. It gave her just a little more energy.

"What do you think he gave you?" Jane asked, privately thinking about meeting this 'Michael' guy and ripping him limb from limb.

"Rohypnol?" Lisbon ground out, unable to summon the energy to form full sentences. "Have the symptoms." She heard a screeching sound on the phone and assumed he was stopping somewhere.

"Lisbon, I'm here." Relief washed over her. Jane was here. She could sleep now...

"You have to stay awake, Lisbon. I need you to unlock the door for me when I get to you."

A groan was her only response, but she could hear the music from the bar coming through his phone. Then a knock at her door. But she could barely move.

"Come on, Lisbon. I know you're tired but you've gotta open the door for me okay?"

She shuffled over so she wasn't leaning against the door anymore, and then reached up and flipped the lock. As soon as she did, Jane pushed the door open and looked down at her. His eyes were dark and concerned and she'd never been so happy to see him in her life. Her lips twitched in her attempt at a smile. "Jane."

He crouched down next to her, unable to stop himself from reaching out and tucking a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "I'm here."

"Home?" She asked.

"Shouldn't you be going to the hospital?" He immediately regretted asking. Though her reactions were reduced by the drug in her system, he still noticed her tense at the mere mention of the place. He knew she hated hospitals.

"No," she moaned. "Please, no."

The desperate expression on her face almost broke his heart. She'd told him once how her only experiences with hospitals had involved deaths of people she cared about. She knew it was irrational, but it always made her scared to go to a hospital. He looked at her pleading expression and decided to just take her home and watch her closely. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight. He would watch her, count her every breath, and make sure nothing would go wrong with her. He would not let her get hurt.

"Okay, I need you to put your arms around my neck. Can you do that for me?"

She tried to look at him, and suddenly realised he was all blurry. Her vision was going now. She was fading fast.

"Can't see... properly." She mumbled, and his concern went up another notch.

"That's alright. You don't have to do anything. I'm gonna carry you out now."

She made a small noise which he took as assent and he knelt down beside her. One arm around her back and one under her knees, he lifted her without hesitation. She wasn't heavy and she wrapped her arms around his neck as best she could in her current state. He used his shoulder to push the door open and then braced himself for the trek through the bar. Not only was he going to have to carry Lisbon through all these people, but he wanted to figure out which one was Michael. He needed his wits about him, and he needed his skills now more than ever. If Lisbon had been drugged with a date rape drug, she might not remember what had happened the next morning. And he knew that she would want to press charges for this. So for her sake, he needed to know without a doubt, exactly who it was who had done this to her, so she could put him away and regain her peace of mind. And of course, his own desire to beat the guy to a pulp had nothing to do with it.

The crowd around the bar parted when they saw him coming, staring curiously at the tiny woman in his arms. They probably figured she was drunk. If only they knew. He looked around, trying to notice something out of the ordinary as he passed more and more tables. And then he saw it. One man, two drinks. He was tall, handsome, about their age and was sitting at a table by himself. There was a beer in front of him and a small glass of something green opposite. Jane knew what that was and he knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Lisbon? You drank Midori right?"

"Mmhmm."

Then the man looked up, and Jane watched as his eyes widened in recognition at the woman in his arms, before he tried to school his features into a look of curiosity, similar to those around him.

Jane felt his teeth clench in anger. So this was the man who'd done this to Lisbon. This was the scumbag who'd tried to ... he couldn't even think it. It was too horrible. He was contemplating all the ways he could cause the man pain when he felt Lisbon's head slump against his shoulder.

"Jane..." she mumbled, and then she was out. Unconscious. He needed to take her home. He took one last glance at 'Michael', burning his face into his memory, before leaving the bar.

He buckled her into the passenger seat of his car and went to the driver's side. He would go back to Lisbon's apartment. He drove carefully this time, as he had Lisbon in the car with him. When he was driving on his own, he was reckless, not caring much about his own safety. But Lisbon was an entirely different matter. He would do anything to keep her safe.

When he arrived at her building, he carried her up the stairs and arrived at her door, realising an issue. Where were her keys? He assumed they were in her bag, but he couldn't get to them. Not without putting her on the floor anyway. And now she was so vulnerable, he was not letting her go. Carefully, he crouched down and rested her body against his legs. He removed his arm from under her knees and his own cried out in protest at the added strain. Maybe his arms could take her weight easily, but his legs were putting up a fight. He quickly rummaged through her purse, finding the right key and inserting it into her door as quickly as he could. It opened easily, and he stood and carried her over the threshold. Kicking the door closed behind him, he walked down the hall towards her bedroom and set her down carefully on the bed, before returning to the door and locking it.

Now he didn't know what to do. He returned to the bedroom and stood in the doorway watching her sleep. It would be a peaceful image, and an enjoyable one, except that he knew she wasn't sleeping by choice. He couldn't wake her up even if he tried. But now he wasn't sure what to do. Should he put a damp cloth on her forehead? No. She didn't have a fever or anything. It wouldn't help. Should he change her ...? No. He cut himself off before his mind could even finish the question. Lisbon may not remember everything in the morning, but she would certainly realise if he had changed her into her pyjamas and she would NOT thank him for that. No. She could stay as she was.

His mind went over a few more possibilities before he came to the conclusion that there was really nothing he could do for her. So he wandered over to her, removed her shoes, lifted the covers on her bed, and gently placed her under them. She seemed so fragile and small. He tucked her in and then went to the other side of the bed and lay down on top of the covers. He took his shoes and jacket off, and got comfortable. He didn't know how long the drug would last for, but he wasn't leaving her side until she was awake again.

The hours dragged by and with every minute Jane tried not to think about Michael. What he had planned to do to Lisbon in all this time... No. He would think about Lisbon. And her reluctant laughter when he pulled a stupid stunt. And her mother-hen attitude towards the other agents on her team. And her unending loyalty to those around her. Her dedication to her job. Her emotional strength to survive a childhood like hers and still come out so beautiful on the other side. He passed by the time trying to forget his worry for her, and waiting to see the fire in her eyes once more.

Five and a half hours had passed when she finally stirred. He'd been listening to her breathe and he noticed the rhythm speed up a little. Looking over at her, he noticed her eyelids flutter slightly. She was waking up. It took half an hour for her to fully open her eyes, and when she did he noticed the confusion straight away.

"Jane?" Her voice was hoarse and he immediately jumped up.

"Shh. I'll be right back." He ran out of the room and returned with a glass of water, which she took with a grateful smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked tentatively, not entirely sure what to expect.

She frowned. "I think so." She sat up slowly, and Jane quickly moved some pillows behind her back to support her. Another grateful smile. "What are you doing here, Jane?"

He gave her a sad smile as he sat down on the other side of the bed. "You don't remember? Last night?"

She frowned again and he waited for her to sort through her thoughts.

"I remember going to a bar, I had a drink with somebody, I felt funny..." She looked up at him in confusion. "Were you there?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Yes I was. You don't remember why?"

She looked down, clearly thinking hard and clearly disturbed by the fact that she couldn't remember something so basic. She looked up at him again and her answer was clear in her eyes.

"What happened, Jane?"

He sighed. He had hoped she would remember everything in the morning, as it would make it easier for her to accept what had happened. He resigned himself to having to explain to her what went on after she entered the bar.

"I don't know exactly what happened before I got there, but I think you were having a drink with a man named Michael. I don't know how he did it, but he spiked your drink. You started feeling funny and locked yourself in the disabled bathroom, and called me." He looked at her and noticed she seemed to be holding back tears. He wanted to touch her, hold her, reassure them both that she was okay, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not until she knew everything that had happened and felt secure and stable again. So he continued.

"From what I managed to get out of you at the time, you seemed to think it was a date rape drug..." (she flinched) "...and I'm inclined to agree. At first when you called me you seemed okay, you were just talking a bit slurred. But then you were saying how tired you were, and you couldn't get out more than a few words at a time, and you kept wanting to go to sleep but I didn't let you." He paused for a moment, watching as she folded her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. He recognised the behaviour. It was defensive. Even though they both knew he wouldn't hurt her, she was clearly unsettled at the thought of what might have been.

"I drove as fast as I could to get there, Lisbon. I did. When I arrived you were only just conscious. I got a couple of words out of you, but you were getting more and more affected by the drug so I picked you up and took you out of there. In the few words I did get from you, you made it clear you didn't want to go to the hospital, so I took you back here. I put you in bed and I've been here ever since. That's all I know."

He watched closely as she processed what he'd told her about the night. She was still wearing the dress from the night before and her hair was tousled. The position she was sitting in meant that the dress showed a lot more of her legs than she would usually, but neither of them noticed or cared. He watched a myriad of emotions cross her face before finally, one tear slipped out, and her head fell forward onto her knees and blocked her face from his view.

And he couldn't stop himself anymore. She needed comfort and he was going to give it to her. He crawled across the bed to her side, sitting down and wrapping his arms around her. She didn't reject him, and so he pulled her against him. She turned into him, unwrapping her arms from her legs to put them around his neck once more. He held her tightly as she trembled from silent sobs against his shoulder.

"Shh. It's okay. You're okay," he whispered over and over again, pressing a kiss into her hair occasionally. Her legs were bent slightly and leaning against his which were straight out in front of him, and he noticed her body was twisted at an odd angle in order to be able to reach him. He reached across her legs and pulled them over to his other side, effectively moving her into his lap and making her more comfortable.

She could feel his fingers gently running through her hair and could feel his other hand rubbing her back. She breathed in the scent of him, his aftershave, and felt herself beginning to calm down. She couldn't believe what had almost happened. She'd been a victim of drink spiking. A date rape drug. She could have been raped... she dissolved into sobs once more.

"I was so stupid," she murmured against his shoulder. Miraculously, he heard her.

"You just made a mistake. Everybody does at some point. It's okay. You're alright."

Jane felt his heart breaking for the woman in his arms. It wasn't her fault this had happened. She was the victim of the situation.

They stayed that way for a while longer – his arms around her and her face buried in his neck. He didn't want to move, but eventually she stirred and turned in his arms, sitting with her back to his chest. He kept his arms around her and they were both surprised when she didn't object. She leaned back against him, her legs mixed up with his, and allowed herself to take comfort from his presence. Now she could get her thoughts in order.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Jane holding her while she thought about what to do, before she broke it. "I think I want to charge him, but I don't know how. I don't even remember what he looked like." She looked at Jane for his advice and was surprised when he grinned. "What?"

"I know how." She gave him a look that told him to keep going, so he did. "When we were leaving the bar last night it occurred to me that you might want to press charges, and that you might not remember the guy in the morning, so I made sure to get a good look at him as we went past. To be completely honest with you, the only thing that stopped me from ripping him to pieces right there and then was you losing consciousness in my arms. But if you want to charge him, we can go back to the bar every night until he returns, and arrest him when he shows up. I'll know exactly who he is."

Lisbon felt a rush of gratitude towards Jane. She knew she was lucky to have him in her life.

"There's only one other thing you'll probably need to do."

"Oh? What is it?"

He hesitated. "You'll probably need to go to the hospital and have a blood test done." He felt her tense. "The drug won't stay in your system for very long and if they do the test soon they can prove that you were drugged. It adds more evidence to the case and proves that something happened, it won't just be a witness testimony."

She knew he was right, but she couldn't shake the terror she felt at the thought of going to the hospital.

"I'll go with you if you want. Hold your hand the whole way."

After a moment she relaxed against him once more. She was dreading so many things – going to the hospital, telling her team what had happened and the fiasco that would arise with her pressing charges - but she knew it needed to be done.

They sat together in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Lisbon realised something. Jane had come from wherever and whatever he was doing, just because she said she needed him. She'd been vulnerable and she'd trusted him with everything, and he'd come for her. Jane had saved her.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"For everything! For coming for me when I needed you, for caring about me, for saving me from..." she trailed off, but she knew he understood.

"Just ... thank you." She reached over and squeezed his hand, hoping the action would convey all the things she could never put into words. She felt him press another soft kiss into her hair and she smiled and closed her eyes.

"You're always welcome."

Okay, so please let me know what you think. Have a great day xxx