[Fic] Blood of Eden

Title: Blood of Eden
Fandom: The Mentalist
Characters: Patrick Jane/OC
Word Count: 4,500~ words
Rating: R
Summary: Jane spends the night guarding a witness in a CBI case and naturally winds up doing a lot of things he shouldn't be doing. Some lines, though, even he finds difficult (but far from impossible) to cross.
A/N: Patrick Jane is a textbook (albeit so far benign) example of a Sorcerer. We thought we might as well see what happens when he runs into, not a Priestess, but more of a Child-Bride.

Frankie Estacado listened to music that was older than she was by at least half again. The books on her shelves were mostly paperbacks, either second-hand or well worn, all of them fiction. There was nothing from her school in the room.

Patrick Jane walked on stocking feet through the smallish bedroom. She had stayed in this bedroom even when her parents had offered her the bigger guest room, because she had been living in it all her life. Tiny pinholes adorned the walls where posters had come down and replaced with other pictures. The bookshelf had worn holes into the paint at the corners; the bed had been pushed against the wall for years by the indentations in the carpet. And the woman who slept in it...

He was finding it hard to think of her as a woman, although she was of legal age, drinking age, almost graduated from college with a Bachelor's in Fine Arts. Heading towards a career in art therapy, or at least that was what she'd said. He suspected something more like child psychology. Maybe another bachelor's, up to a Master's, and then certification. For a second the patterns stood out clear in the room, telling him everything he needed to know about her. And then it was gone when he blinked and looked down and let go of the heightened sense of recognition. His job was to keep an eye on the girl, nothing else. They knew who was stalking her and why, they didn't need his skills any longer.

But they did need an extra body, an extra set of eyes and ears, so he was willing to help out. Rigsby was downstairs, probably asleep on the couch by now. The others had gone home for the night since it was his and Rigsby's shift.

"What are you doing?"

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Okay. Just uploaded my Yuletide fic, so there's that done. Just posted that strange The Mentalist piece which turned out to be less smut and more... something. The physical act was the same but the atmosphere was a lot more blue with cold than I expected. That's the only way I can think of to describe it, blue with cold. I should write some more tonight but I'm exhausted, and the friggin cat woke me up at 6 in the morning this morning. So I think it's going to be tags and going to bed, or just going to bed.

It really has been deader than the Kenniwick Man at work these past couple of days. I got some bead things done, I got the Yuletide fic I was betaing done at work, and I did that Mentalist fic at work. Traditionally, at least in all my experience working mail order (which is considerable by now and dear god that's a frightening thought) Fridays are the slowest ordering day of the week. I wonder how dead it's going to be tomorrow.

I want to do another scene on my novel but I'm just too damn tired. That said, I will try to get another section, the next section, of the Supernatural/Babylon 5 crossover fic up sometime tomorrow. And do at least a scene or two of the novel, not that that's going to go up anytime soon. I need to fix the problem in the last section I posted, and then post that up. Two ongoing projects and then hopefully I'll knock down some of the shorter things on my to-write list. See, I am getting organized.

Christmas cards started going out on Monday and then sort of trickled to a halt as I failed to get stamps, return address labels, and cards all in one place at one time. Hopefully they'll continue to go out tomorrow. For those of you who haven't already given me your addresses or confirmed that you're still at the ones which got Christmas or Valentine's day cards, this is the time and place to do it.

Not much news on either health front yet. Mikey has a vet appointment tomorrow and there's been no further deterioration or much improvement on the other front. I'm attempting to convince the boy to take the time off he's been given and go home for the weekend, but it's not working.

Currently, instead, he is glomping onto me and muttering about pancakes. Or trying to wake me up by shaking me.

I really need a sleeeepy icon. Some sort of icon of being sleepy, because I am.

ETA: Apparently I was so tired that my HTML was borked. Ooops.