Another one shot. . . *chews lip* I'm not sure about this, i like bits of it, but. . . yeah. Anyway, i hope you like it! Cos it's kind of your opinion that actually matters :P

Disclaimer: Nothing. . . well, i do own some things, but you know :P Not the mentalist. In my dreams maybe. . .

A bright, radiant face turned to him; blue sparkling eyes and a cheeky smile were framed by blonde bouncing curls that surrounded her pretty face. Her delighted giggle was like music to his ears, and she ran towards him shouting excitedly, 'Daddy, daddy!'

He smiled and knelt down, catching her in his arms. Swinging her round, she giggled again. 'Love you daddy,' she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear.

'Love you too baby,' he whispered back. She pulled away from the hug to look at her daddy's face, her own face painted with a smile that was identical to her fathers, and one of her small delicate fingers touched him on the nose and she giggled. He smiled at the precious little girl in his arms, and pulled her closer to him in a hug, kissing the top of her head.

He put his daughter back down, and ruffled her hair, a feeling of happiness and warmth flooding him.

Turning round, her long blonde hair flying everywhere she ran in the opposite direction to him, back to the house. She ran and ran and ran, and he just stood rooted to the spot. He could hear her calling his name, but he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything She disappeared through the door, and he could hear her running upstairs. An awful sense of dread rose up in him, and he still couldn't move. He was frozen, useless. He heard that heartbreaking, piercing scream which ripped his heart out of his chest.

And then Patrick Jane woke up.

"You ok Jane?" Lisbon's tone had a touch of concern to it, she had watched, her heart tugging as his face contorted with pain in his sleep. He had been, strange, different this week. And she was... she was worried about him. Not that she would ever openly admit it, of course.

It was late, and everyone else had gone home, the office was quiet, with just Jane on his couch and Lisbon finishing off some paperwork.

"Huh?" Jane's sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you ok?" she asked again.

He turned to her, a strange look on his face, "I'm fine, why do you ask?"

She shrugged nonchalantly.

He watched her sat over there, working in the dim light which flattered her. She looked beautiful, but she also looked delicate and easily broken.

A familiar searing pain began to consume him, and he just wanted it to stop. He missed his wife, but most of all he missed his daughter and he just wanted the pain to stop. To go away. The ache was too much on days like this, it overpowered him, consumed him completely.

It hurt so much, and he just wanted it to stop.

He walked round her desk, and looked down on her, she got up and she bumped into him. "What are you doing Jane?" She asked, a look of curiosity passing her face.

His lips crushed down on hers, and though her heart was screaming at her she kissed him back. It might have been selfish, but all he knew was that it eased the pain, just a little.

When they broke apart, and only then, he realized he had shattered her. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and she was trembling.

More pain, but of a different kind, more fresh and full of regret, washed over him.

"I'm sorry," he said, seeing the pain in her eyes, and deep down knowing an apology would never be good enough. It had been the last thing he'd wanted to do, hurt her. But as usual, he'd managed to anyway.

"What the hell was that?" she tried to come across as harsh and scathing, but came out as vulnerable and upset.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, never tearing his eyes off her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asked quietly.

He looked into her tear filled eyes, and realized how cruel his actions had been. He owed her this.

They sat down on his couch, an awkward silence settled between them.

He reminded himself, again, that she deserved this, deserved an explanation. "Six years ago today, I found, my daughter..."

Ice shot through her blood, her whole body immediately chilled. Of course. She'd been so blind, the strange behaviour this past week, the unhappy haunted look in his eye, the tossing and turning on 'his' couch.

Tears pricked at his eyes and he couldn't prevent them, he was embarrassed, but she just looked shocked. In a strange way, it made her hurt even more - he'd just used her to forget.

"I'm sorry," he told her again, and she did something that surprised him a great deal, and that didn't happen a lot, she hugged him.

"It's ok," she whispered, and pulled him tighter, revelling in the bittersweet feeling of him so close to her. It tugged on her heart, it made her feel so alive, but it also hurt. Because she couldn't have him. But right now, right here wasn't about her. It was about him, his hurt. So she pushed her own selfish feelings aside, and hugged him anyway. Because it although it hurt her, if it helped him, she would do it any day. Besides, it could have been worse.

She could feel his body shaking, and knew he was crying silently.

"I'm so sorry Teresa," The soft way he said her first name shot straight through her, but she tried not to think about it.

"Don't worry about it," she said trying to keep her voice calm.

He didn't say anything, just cried quietly.

Her heart skipped a beat every time he moved, and she couldn't remember the last time her senses had been this heightened, her skin so sensitive to touch. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his warm breath tickling her neck. She almost let out a moan, but stopped and reminded herself yet again that this was about him.

She didn't know how long they sat there for, or how late it was. Neither did she care. His crying subsided a little, but she didn't let go. She didn't want to - she didn't have to.

"It's late, you should go home, get some sleep." Jane said in barely a whisper.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine,"

"Yeah right," he said, laughing a little. But they both knew he was right, he shouldn't have kissed her.

She didn't know what to do, what to say. So they stayed like that for a little longer until she decided it was time to break the embrace. He needed to go home as much as she did.

"Go home Jane," she said quietly.

"I don't know if I can," he said, looking at her. The heartbreak and pain so evident and plain in his piercing eyes that it hurt her just to look. God knows how he was feeling. And what made her so sad, was that, six years later, and the pain looks as fresh as any. Today, it had really hit her. The nightmare he must live each day, the smiling, teasing consultant was him, sort of. But it was a mask, a cover for the torment he must feel every second of every day. It... it must be like living a lie, almost.

She shivered at the thought.

"Go home Teresa," he said looking at her, "Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it," the words were out of her mouth before she had the chance to think about them.

He smiled, just a little, "Go on," he told her again, and gestured with his hand, "I'll be fine."

She smiled at him sadly, "Good night..." her voice faltered a little, "Patrick," She said, placing a feather light kiss on his cheek.

He smiled a little, and looked at her, and she couldn't breathe. "Good night Teresa,"

She turned and started to walk away, "Teresa?"

"Yeah?" She turned around and could feel her heart beating in her chest.

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome,"

She practically ran to the elevator, she wasn't sure she could keep it in anymore.

She stepped in, and slammed the emergency stop button. This wasn't about her, but she just couldn't help it. She slid down the wall of the elevator and wrapped her arms around her chest and knees. And cried.

Please review if you read this, i've actually been working on it for ages, since Tuesday believe it or not, i know it's not that long, but i have, honest! It's just been one of those where you delete whole sections and re write them, again, and again, and again. . . And i would love to know your opinion. . .

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