A/N: Trust Me is my first ever fanfiction. It's intended as my best explanation as to why Lisbon and Jane haven't moved forward in their relationship, then says "eff that!" and moves them very forward. There is a minor case involved as a scene-setter for the story, but it isn't a very complex or accurate account of an investigation. I'll leave that to the writers behind The Mentalist who are far more adept at providing an interesting mystery.

Takes the series into account up to 6x10, but AU as of 6x11. Hope you enjoy!

ONE

She hated this. Of course she did, who in their right mind wouldn't? But this kind of thing, like him it hit her particularly hard. Patrick Jane watched her turn away from her scrutiny of the small body splayed out before them in the middle of the dark, cluttered room. Her shoulders rose slowly with a deep breath as she pretended to take in the dust and web-coated shelves to her left. They both knew tragedy well, had histories both separate and shared full of suffering, and in return their composure when faced with the evidence of just how low mankind could stoop was forced at best. He was tempted to reach out and touch her, place a comforting hand on her shoulder as much for himself as for her, but he barely entertained that idea for a second. They both had a lot to prove to their new colleagues, and to even hint at a need to give and receive comfort at a crime scene was not likely to be welcomed by anyone, including her.

Jane pulled his eyes away from Teresa Lisbon's rigid form as she continued to feign interest in the woodwork and innumerable garish knickknacks surrounding them. He took a deep breath of his own and began his turn to study the body. He wanted to get it over with, to move on to the next case where maybe, just maybe, the dead might have been deserving of their fate. In his short career with the FBI, he'd learned that few victims of high stakes crimes weren't as depraved as their executioner. Morally wrong or right, he could stomach a bullet through the skull of someone who'd lived their life dealing in corruption and fear, perhaps even taken lives themselves. But this, this lifeless child whose cropped blond hair was matted and darkened with blood, this was unacceptable. This boy couldn't be more than ten years old, it was impossible for him to bear a guilt worthy of death.

"So what do you think?" Jane startled at Lisbon's voice and looked up to see her wide green eyes now focused directly on him, still not wanting to continue seeing the dead child. He took a second to assure himself she was holding up okay, tipping his head a little as he held her gaze. She couldn't resist and gave him the small smile he was looking for.

That's all he needed. "The only thing that sticks out to me is the lack of dust settled on all these little figurines. How is a house otherwise undisturbed so freshly decorated?" Lisbon nodded her agreement having noticed the same peculiarity. Someone didn't live here, but they did frequent the old home. "But really, there's nothing left to say until we do a little more digging, speak to the senator, everyone close to him, everyone connected to this property, run any fingerprints that can be lifted from this ridiculous number of minuscule pets."

"The property doesn't belong to anyone. It was purchased by the government several years ago, a case of eminent domain, but the highway intended to run through here was rerouted away from the area before the house was ever torn down." Kimball Cho filled in.

"Oh, lovely, people forced to give up their lives only to have everything left to wild animals. 'Murrica!" Several agents stopped their careful scrutiny of the crime scene to glare at Jane. Federal employees were fiercely loyal to their government and didn't appreciate such quips, especially coming from someone whose presence they had yet to respect. Patrick held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. The agents shook their heads and returned to their duties. "Touchy," he muttered under his breath. Jane took in his heartbreaking surroundings one last time, turned on his heel, and left the room. He walked down the filthy hallway he found himself in and exited that dingy house as fast as he could.

He didn't need to hear the clamor of footsteps behind him to know that at least four people were hot on his trail. Lisbon caught up to him first and he stopped to face her, sensing she had something to say. She leaned close to whisper, "You need to behave if you want to make friends." The look on her face was not cross, but amused. He'd seen this look from her a lot, lately.

"Who says I want to make friends? I already have you," he paused, "And Cho." Cho gave no response when Jane offered him a cheerful wave. Jane smiled at his old friend and returned to walking, Lisbon at his side keeping pace. He was glad she was able to be a bit light with him given their present venue and he wasn't quite ready to risk that she might retreat into herself over this case, so he continued talking. "I'm pretty sure Abbott is starting to like me, too, Lisbon, so you might want to play your cards right if you don't want to be in competition with him."

"In competition, huh? For what prize?"

"For what prize? You're my dearest friend, Lisbon," his voice was teasing, "I'd do anything for you, but I can foresee Abbott taking that position in my life if I become as fond of him as he is of me."

She gave a little snort. "Oh, okay. Thank you for the warning."

"No problem. I'm rooting for you so I wanted you to know."

"Uh-huh," They were no longer walking having reached the SUVs that had brought them to their present location, and now stood toe to toe. They grinned at each other, pleased with their shared moment of humor. It really was so nice to be near each other again after more than two absurdly long years apart. Sometimes Patrick still couldn't believe the fact that he was able to just see her face again nearly every day. And here, in the sun, he had always loved the way her eyes looked in the sun. In the bright light of day you could see that her green eyes were really a complex collage of gold, brown, and blue, and he sobered a bit looking at her, his smile faltering.

"We have got a number of interviews to conduct and need to begin immediately." Agent Dennis Abbot boomed as he closed the distance between himself and the two new members of his team. "Several people on our list are already waiting at the field office, including very important, very put-out individuals of this community. Agent Cho, I need you to stay here for the time being to oversee evidence collection and ensure proper handling of the body. Agent Fischer-you, Jane, and Lisbon are with me." He stopped in front of Patrick Jane and leveled him with a no-nonsense scowl. Jane's expression wasn't any friendlier after hearing Abbott's purposeful slight in not calling Lisbon 'agent'. "I am watching you Patrick, you understand? Get in the car. Back seat," he added when Jane reached for the handle of the front passenger door. Abbott instead hopped in to the front passenger side, and Lisbon climbed in behind him. She was about to slide over and make room for Jane, but another agent quickly took the vehicle's last available seat.

Resigned, he stepped back and shut Lisbon's door for her with a nod goodbye. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him, unbothered by anything that had just passed. Lisbon was confident, she knew she was a good investigator and would continue to prove her worth to Abbott and the rest of the FBI. "Let's go, Jane!" He looked down the row of SUVs to see Kim-no, Agent Kim Fischer, he corrected himself-standing by one of the large black vehicles about four yards away. He jogged toward her, and with exaggerated flourish gestured to the SUV as if to say, 'after you'. Fischer climbed in to the same seat Abbott had claimed in Lisbon's car, which was already pulling away, and Jane took the seat behind her.

Kim Fischer. She reminded him of Lisbon, in a way. She, like his old partner, held within her both strength and warmth, both unflappable capability and a carefree spirit. The real difference between the two women was, he mused as the car they were riding in was maneuvered off the overgrown lot and onto paved road, much to her chagrin, Lisbon was guileless. She was tough and capable because she'd had to survive, but the silliness and gentleness she possessed in such great quantities, she had never purposefully hidden these. She had lost them. Somewhere along the way, to sorrow and the need to grow up faster than any child should ever be burdened with, Teresa Lisbon had lost the little girl inside who had a lust for life. But she had always been there, just under the surface, and over their years together Lisbon had been happy to relearn playfulness. For his part, he had been even happier having a hand in teaching her to enjoy the lighter side of life. He was extraordinarily protective of her not because she was weak, but because for all that she'd been through and for all of her ardency when it came to defending others, she was incapable of the deceit needed to protect her own heart. Lisbon just was who she was. She was honorable and had a capacity to love in a way he'd seen only once before.

The woman in front of him now was not quite so unaffected. Jane knew that underneath all of the bravado, Kim Fischer had a softness that she felt the need to hide with suits and structure. The armor she wore was carefully constructed, a point of pride for her. He didn't see someone who was wounded, but rather someone who had an inherent need to validate her hard work. She feared not being a valuable player in her field and had learned to steel herself against anything that could possibly hinder her ability to efficiently do her job. But the front she put on day in and day out left her tightly wound, and during their time together in Venezuela he'd seen in her a need to connect with someone as great as his own, and seen in her the need to just let go for once. He'd thought at that time that they'd use each other to put a band aid over their individual ails. Ultimately, she'd managed to dupe him not with her lies, but with her own inner truths that she'd failed to mask.

That she'd tricked him at all wasn't something he really worried about, though. She had just been doing her job, and she'd done it well. They were colleagues, now, and he was a free man. The past was the past. It was stop looking behind him.