I always been a girl

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 8 - It's Not Easy Being Green [The Mentalist]

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 12:50:55 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 8 - It's Not Easy Being Green
Summary: Sometimes you just need to give in. Post episode 2x08.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

She opened the door without checking the peephole this time, still pleasantly warm from the tequila. Too late she realized she should be more careful, what with CBI agents linked to the Red John case being killed and all. It was a sobering thought, as was the sight of Patrick Jane on her doorstep.

His expression held no mirth, his shoulders were slumped. Her stomach knotted in response. She didn’t feel the alcohol’s warmth anymore.

“Is he here?” Jane asked without preamble.

“Who?”

He looked at her more sharply, and she realized there was no game playing. His expression was unreadable – she was used to that. But she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the raw need in his eyes. It scared and thrilled her at the same time.

Van Pelt snorted softly, her own covering tactic. “Cho had to practically carry him out of the office. He drove him home and put him to bed.”

Jane nodded.

“Where did you disappear to?” The attempted lightness in her voice was poor at best.

“Nothing. Work.”

She didn’t push him. Didn’t ask about the Red John case. She didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to acknowledge the only reason he was at her door.

“Are you okay?” she asked, feebly this time.

He nodded again, saying nothing, doing nothing. Then he took a couple of steps forward, slowly, until he was invading her personal space. Van Pelt’s breath caught in her throat. She was incapable of a coherent thought, let alone speech. If she’d been able to find her voice, she told herself later, she would have asked him what the hell he was doing, and if he thought he could just toy with her emotions like that. She would have accused him of using her, of being an insensitive bastard who only sought her out when he needed comfort, ignoring Rigsby’s feelings and betraying her own.

But she said none of those things.

“What do you want, Jane?”

He paused again, meeting her eyes only briefly before dropping his gaze.

“I want to smell like lilac,” he murmured, his breath warming her cheek.

He waited when she didn’t respond immediately, neither losing his close proximity nor making physical contact.

He did not smile when her hand slipped into his, and said nothing when she drew him inside.

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 7 - Rhapsody in Blue [The Mentalist]

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 09:44:18 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 7 - Rhapsody in Blue
Summary: Temptation comes in many forms, all of them Patrick Jane. Post episode 2x07.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

Every breath hurt, every step as she made her way to the door where an insistent knock broke the silence in her apartment. She paused before she checked the peephole, breathing through the pain and delaying the inevitable awkward small talk before Rigsby revealed the real reason he was there. He loved her. He wanted to protect her.

Van Pelt knew she was lucky. Knew she should be grateful that he cared. Knew that he just wanted to reassure himself that she was okay, and may be seek some sympathy over the fact he had shot and killed someone that day. Van Pelt knew the least she could do was give him that.

Thus resolved, she leaned forward to look through the peephole to check before opening the door. But she didn’t see Rigsby’s tall, dark frame. Instead a bag of grapes obscured her view until they were replaced with Jane’s face, grinning at her.

The pang she felt had nothing to do with broken ribs and bruises. It went deeper. And she hated herself a little for it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked suspiciously, after opening the door only a crack.

“I called the hospital and they said you checked yourself out,” he replied. If he felt any concern for her he wasn’t showing it. He smiled again and held up the bag. “Fruit. It’s good for you. Better than flowers.”

She smiled reluctantly and opened the door a little wider to accept the bag.

“Thank you.”

“Is that it?” asked Jane, which caused her to frown.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know, an invitation to come inside, a cup of tea, some indication that you’re feeling all right after being shot at point blank range... That sort of thing.”

“I’m fine.”

Jane cocked his head to one side, studying her, when she still didn’t let him in. She held his gaze as long as she could before sighing.

“Jane, I’m tired. I should be resting. You should go.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Or maybe you’re expecting someone.”

Van Pelt didn’t bother replying. She knew that Jane knew about her and Rigsby, though he had yet to bring it up in conversation. And Jane knew that she knew that he knew. She sighed again, exhausted by the mere thought of it.

“Come in then,” she said, with a hint of defiance in her voice. If he was expecting her to try and cover up her connection with Rigsby he was in for a surprise. “I’ll make tea.”

She didn’t wait to see if he followed her inside, and heard the door close softly. Van Pelt grimaced as she reached for a couple of mugs from the kitchen cupboard and flinched again when Jane was suddenly behind and took over. He filled the kettle without a word then glanced around, fingers outstretched, as if divining which cupboard would be holding the teabags. He smiled slightly when he met her eyes, with all the pretense of reading her mind.

“Above the microwave,” she said, not interested in playing along.

“You’re no fun anymore.”

That did elicit a small smile from her after he turned to retrieve the teabags. He took his time making a selection, long enough for the kettle to boil. He made no attempt at conversation while he made the tea, and nor did Van Pelt. She was determined not to give him an inch.

“So,” Jane said after he handed her a steaming mug.

“So.” She leaned against the counter, making no invitation for him to sit down. Jane mirrored her action across the kitchen.

“What’s it like being shot?”

She let out a sharp breath that tweaked her ribs and forced steam from the tea to make her face flush. She lowered the mug. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, innocently sipping his tea.

“No misdirection, no small talk? Just cut to the chase?” Van Pelt shook her head. “You’re no fun anymore.”

Jane smiled, even though there was no sincerity in her voice. “I figured I owed you a break.”

Van Pelt’s expression darkened immediately, which did cause him to react. “You figured that’s what you owed me?”

“Grace–”

“Don’t ‘Grace’ me. Why did you come here?” she spat angrily.

Jane’s blue eyes were wider than normal, his face devoid of any levity. “I wanted to see if you were all right. That’s all.”

“And you couldn’t wait until I came back to work?”

“I didn’t know when that would be.”

“Suddenly you’re impatient?” she snapped.

“I know that you’ve been through a traumatic experience...”

“Shut up, Jane! I’ll get all the counseling I need at the office, thanks all the same.”

He opened and closed his mouth without replying, the first time she had seen him rethinking his strategy. Van Pelt’s anger cooled a little, but not enough that she gave in.

“Really, you should go,” she said evenly.

“I’m sure Rigsby would understand my wanting to check on a colleague,” Jane offered.

She smiled bitterly, wondering if he really thought that’s what she was worried about or if it was just his way of covering. “Maybe. I’m just not sure that I do.”

Van Pelt set her mug down and walked back towards the door.

“Grace–”

She turned around, eyes blazing.

“He loves me.”

Jane stepped towards her. “As he should.”

“He told me he loves me.”

“As he should,” Jane repeated, quieter this time.

Her resolve crumbled swiftly as they stared at each other. The ache in her throat as forced herself not to cry replaced the pain in her ribs.

“I didn’t say it back,” she admitted eventually.

“Maybe you should.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, letting out a breath and a weak smile. “Maybe I should.”

Jane kept looking at her, kinder now.

“I was scared to death,” Van Pelt whispered, her throat making it difficult to talk. “I saw the gun and before I knew it I was on the ground.”

Jane came closer.

“I knew I had the vest. I knew I was all right. But after... after I couldn’t stop shaking.”

She was thankful that he didn’t try and explain away her admission with a description of shock. He gave her a nod of understanding.

Van Pelt indulged herself in his sympathy a moment longer before clearing her throat. “But the doctor said I’m going to be fine. I’ll be on restricted duty but–”

She could finish before Jane gently wrapped his arms around her and held her gently. Surprised by the gesture, she didn’t respond at first. Then she remembered the last time she had hugged him, after Jane’s close call with Red John in Tijuana. She remembered where that hug had led and wished it would again.

But she knew Jane wouldn’t. Not now. Not with the likelihood that Rigsby would be turning up at her apartment at any moment. So Van Pelt withdrew from his arms before he had the chance to break the embrace. She planted a fake smile on her face.

“Thanks for stopping by.”

The impersonal tone caused him to frown, but the smile did not waver.

“And the fruit,” she continued. “You’re right. Better than flowers.”

Jane opened his mouth to speak again but she opened the door before he had a chance. She glanced quickly at him when he didn’t leave, not trusting herself to look any longer.

“Goodnight, Jane.”

“Goodnight, Grace,” he replied quietly.

She felt a flood of relief when she pressed it closed behind him, but didn’t let go of the doorknob. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed.

A different pain to focus on.

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 6 - Purple Heart [The Mentalist]

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 07:44:33 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 6 - Purple Heart
Summary: She had a choice to make. Post episode 2x05.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

It was never going to happen with Jane. If Van Pelt had learned one thing over the past year it was that.

Jane was unreachable, impenetrable. Rigsby wasn’t. She didn’t know where she stood with Jane. With Rigsby, it was clear. He had told her exactly how he felt without any hint of embarrassment or self protection. She didn’t have to guess what he wanted. And Van Pelt was tired of having to guess. Of always wondering. Everything she felt when it came to Patrick Jane.

She sometimes wondered if she had imagined what had happened between them – the brief few hours they spent together when Jane had truly let her in for the first and only time. Since then, she had been waiting for it happen again, trying to get close to him through all of his games and misdirection.

But Jane never allowed it. She pretended that he would change, that if she persevered he might tell her what she wanted to hear. He might show her. In the meantime she contented herself with the looks he sometimes gave her, the way he called her Grace against protocol, the times he smiled at her and she felt it down to her toes, the memory of staring deep into his eyes while he was inside her and believing, just for a moment, that she had every part of him.

She’d been contented, but always hoping, always hoping.

Now, it was harder to believe his distance was because he’d lost his family and was on mission to find their killer. She used to think that he wouldn’t let himself feel anything for anyone else while Red John was still out there. But she was starting to admit to herself that even if they caught Red John, even if Jane got his revenge, nothing was going to change. He was too far gone to let anyone into his life that cared about him, and that he would allow himself love back.

He would never make a declaration as Rigsby had done, never allow himself to be that vulnerable. Not with her.

Van Pelt had a decision to make. Her first instinct after Rigsby’s admission was to pull away, which is exactly what she did. She kept him at arm’s length, though she knew she was hurting him. She had to think, had to decide if she was going to allow herself to care for someone who loved her so completely, who wasn’t afraid to tell her, and who would break the rules to be with her.

Jane would do none of those things.

Van Pelt came to the realization that she wanted them, that she deserved them. And it was time to stop fooling herself that Patrick Jane would ever be able to be that man. It was the reality of the situation, and Van Pelt was a realist. She also couldn’t deny her affection for Rigsby, who only wanted to be loved in return. She could give that to him. He deserved it, too.

She didn’t meet Jane’s eyes over the case closed pizza as he handed her a plastic cup of priceless wine. She had made her decision. She had to keep Jane as far from her thoughts as possible – a new regimen she had started the moment she pulled Rigsby into the interview room and kissed him. She couldn’t allow Jane in as she had done before, no matter how much she wanted to or how hard a habit it was to break. Being with Rigsby was certainly one way to start the process of letting Jane go.

She ignored the whisper of a voice in her head that hinted that it wasn’t fair to Rigsby. She didn’t listen to the taunts that it didn’t matter how kind and caring he was, he wasn’t Jane. She shut down the pangs of regret and longing, and sipped at her wine, hoping it would give her enough of a buzz to silence any thought but that of being with Rigsby.

At least, she tried.

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 5 - Orange Crush [The Mentalist]

Sun, 27 Sep 2009 08:32:44 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 5 - Orange Crush
Summary: Van Pelt knows what she wants, but wanting isn't getting. Post episode 2x01.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

Van Pelt stood in the CBI foyer and bid the Dunnigers goodbye with a sympathetic smile for the grieving family. She waited until their car pulled away before returning to the office. Lisbon passed her in the hall, talking on her cell phone. Van Pelt paused, waiting for an indication if there was a new case, but Lisbon's laugh at something the caller said and her dismissive wave to Van Pelt meant they were done for the day. Van Pelt's mood lightened immediately.

Jane was also on the phone when she walked back into the office, but he quickly ended the call with a murmur of thanks and tucked a piece of paper into his pocket. He sat back on the couch and smiled to himself.

Van Pelt felt herself smiling back automatically, then the expression faded as she wondered if he'd been talking to Lisbon. Maybe they were planning to meet up, careful to make their plans when she was leaving the office so no one caught them talking. Van Pelt cursed her own imagination – in an instant she pictured Jane and Lisbon together. She tried to dismiss the thought, but she couldn't ignore the way Jane and Lisbon had been interacting that day, or the hug he'd given her when they were in Bayshore. Van Pelt had watched them from a distance, embarrassed that she'd caught them and disconcerted that she hadn't been able to turn away.

She was annoyed that she felt anything at all when it came to Jane, but there was no denying it. It unsettled her. Just as Jane's dismissive treatment of her investigative work unsettled her. Just as the way he was looking at her now from the couch as she struggled to keep her emotions from view.

"Making plans?" she asked, determined to act normally.

"You could say that," Jane replied mysteriously, but he made no move to leave.

Giving her a head start, thought Van Pelt, then forced herself to abandon it. She was just thankful that Jane was still there, that he'd decided to stay with the CBI. She admitted that she hated the idea of him not being part of the team. It had been impossible to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when he'd started packing up his desk. But Jane was staying, and she decided it was enough to be grateful for. Anything else was just wishful thinking.

Van Pelt logged off her computer, satisfied she had done good work on the case. She was getting better at her job, despite still managing to annoy Lisbon with her meticulous preparation whenever they had to travel for a case. She was getting more confident, and had handled interviewing Kessie Dunninger without Cho or Rigsby as back up. She was becoming more accepted, and Van Pelt liked it.

"Heading out?" Jane asked, and Van Pelt was surprised to see he was only a few feet from her. Damn guy moved like a cat.

"I am," she replied, keeping her voice even. "I had a good day."

"Good for you." A smile played on his lips and he reached out and tugged lightly on the end of her long red hair before walking off.

Van Pelt frowned. She couldn't figure him out, didn't think she ever would. But that didn't stop her from wanting to try, fool's errand though she knew it to be.

"Do you need a ride?" she asked without thinking, her voice hitching in her throat. Jane turned to stare at her.

"Home… a ride home," she added quickly and with only the faintest of blushes.

His smile widened briefly, then he looked down at his feet. "I thought we already had this conversation."

"You never talk about anything, not really," she said boldly. "And you know it."

Jane gave a nod of his head in acknowledgment. "Maybe I underestimated those deduction skills of yours."

Van Pelt smiled but it was tinged with sadness. He was never going to let her in. They both knew it. So why did she keep hoping he would?

She collected her purse, figuring a hasty escape was warranted. There was nothing else to be said. But then Jane caught her arm with a soft touch as she passed him. Van Pelt frowned again.

"I'm not a victim, Grace," Jane said, a propos of nothing.

"What?"

"Never mind." He wasn't looking at his feet anymore, instead he was studying her intently. She would have given anything to be able to read his mind, but that was Jane's department.

"Let's go," he said, not breaking his stare.

Van Pelt could barely speak from surprise. Though she made the initial offer she hadn't expect him to accept it. "Really?"

"I know a place," said Jane. He held out his arm to urge her along.

Van Pelt's steps were hesitant for a few paces as she second-guessed what was happening. It felt real, but for all she knew she was imagining it. Then Jane's hand was on the small of her back and she suppressed her doubts.

They crossed the car park in silence, heading for Jane's car rather than hers. He opened the door for her and they shared a quick smile as he closed it. In that moment she scanned his face for any regret but he was too good at hiding his feelings. He took his seat behind the wheel and smoothly maneuvered the Citroën through the CBI lot.

Neither of them noticed Cho stopped in the shadow cast by the car park lights. As his eyes followed the car as it exited the gates, he thoughtfully tossed his keys in his hand a few times before continuing to his own vehicle.

0 0 0 0

"What do you think?" Jane asked.

"It's beautiful," Van Pelt replied.

Jane took a seat on the grass, his eyes not wavering from the view of the Sacramento Marina lights reflected on the river. When she hadn't followed suit after a few moments he patted the ground next to him. With a resigned smirk she sat down, silently reminding herself she should have known better.

They watched the water for a while, neither of them speaking. Van Pelt decided to ignore the disappointment she felt and to just enjoy the peace and quiet and the last of the sunset as it dipped behind the trees… and the fact that Jane was breathing deeply beside her, calm and contented. She let her guard down with a measure of relief. It was exhausting staying alert for any Jane trickery all of the time. When he was like this she knew he would leave the cutting observations alone.

"I've never been down here before," she murmured. "Another one of your secret places?"

"Not so secret," he said as they heard laughter coming from a group around the barbeque area.

Another companionable silence fell.

"I've never brought anyone here," Jane said after a while. His gaze remained on the view.

It was enough for Van Pelt. She leaned back on her hands and smiled.

For the love of God, make it stop!

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 11:34:44 GMT

Why oh why must EVERY reality TV contestant in the US use the annoying phrase "throw [someone] under the bus"? It's so overused and abhorrent and I HATE IT.

People who use that phrase need to STFU. Now.

</rant>

Why have I never seen this before?

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 09:59:37 GMT

*Sigh* If only...

I need to get back to writing All That Remains.

Fic: On Second Thoughts [Eli Stone]

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 10:56:43 GMT

Title: On Second Thoughts
Rating: K
Characters/Pairings: Matt/Taylor
Summary: Taylor makes a decision about the future.
Spoilers: Spoilers for the series finale.

Follow me

Picspam: Eli Stone - ep. 213

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 13:00:49 GMT

Eli Stone picspam: Where people wear nice suits and talk a lot

Episode 213 ("Flight Plan")

If you haven't seen this episode and don't want to be spoiled, turn back now!

Well, folks, here we are. It's only been 26 episodes which isn't anywhere near enough. I can't help but feel sad and angry all over again that the show has been taken from us, but will try and focus on the positives of the episode. Because there were positives. Oh yes... (Come on, you gotta give me props for self control. Though I do lose it a little later on. You know why.)

Let's take one last look at Eli Stone picspam.

The George Michael song was a nice touch, seeing as we haven't heard from him all season. Oh, show.

Here I was thinking it's Maggie in the distance...

But NO, OH MY GOD IT'S LILAH. Then stuff started falling from the sky. 'Cause it's LILAH.

What's this? Taylor's finally getting a clue? I better get an 'I love you' for Matt.

I love how clueless Matt looks at Taylor's rant.

I don't know whose shocked face I love more. Where as me? I was just grinning inanely.
And possibly squealing. Just a little bit.

The brothers Stone. *sigh*

I just noticed something. No stupid Sci Fi channel branding! Aw, thanks you guys!
I do appreciate seeing everyone without your logo stamped across their faces. Bless.

Keith! That should make a few people happy.

Okay, just breathe... breathe...

Dear GOD...

Now, Taylor, do you have something you want to tell Matt?

Argh! Don't think I didn't notice. You were supposed to tell him you love him, remember?
Sheesh. You're gonna make me write fanfic, aren't you?
But oh my good God, how adorable are they?
I don't care how cheesy the bended knee thing was. ♥♥♥♥♥

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Jordan, that the firm's cut from last episode's huge win hasn't made it into the coffers yet. But satchels? Really, that's the staff gift? Laaaaaame plot contrivance.

Three little words. Would it kill ya?

Hey, I remember you! Frank, right?

Oh, Nate. ♥♥♥♥♥

Holy crap!

WTF? Patti forgets to tell him that she sent one of the WSA bags to Maggie? Despite the fact she works for P&K?
Oh I get it, Patti's trying to kill her off for her disloyalty. *eyeroll*

Wha? What just happened? Damn. I hope we get some deleted scenes or something
because that all happened in an enormous rush.

Was anyone else freaking out watching this in case it was all a vision?

Sniff! Bye Nate!

Yeah, so should someone whose aneurysm just ruptured be up wandering the hospital hallways?
Onto other matters, nice use of Eli's suit and tie from the pilot.

Aaron Stone! I wish they hadn't put Tom Cavanagh's name in the opening credits so I wasn't waiting
the entire episode for him to appear... I think I would have squealed again upon seeing him.

For a dead guy, he doesn't look half bad.

Guh, thank you, Eli for correcting Papa Stone about the whole Grace soulmate thing. Someone had to say it!
(I didn't miss the 'I love you' either. Go give some lessons to Taylor, kthnxbi.)

SNIFF! "Everything's a test. Life is a test. You... you, my boy, you're passing with flying colors." *cries*

LOLZ, he has a photo of Matt on his desk!

I'm guessing the woman in the ski hat is Taylor? As long as it's not Grace I'm happy.

Um... and? Can I have the rest now? What happens now? *cries* Closure, my ass, I want to know what happens to everyone else? Eli and Maggie? Do Matt and Taylor elope? (And when did she finally say those three little words?) What happened with Jordan and Susan? Does Taylor reconcile with her mom? How does Frank end up working in Nate's building? What about Patti? Keith? Does Maggie leave P&K? Why did it take them ten years to have that baby?

I want more!!!!

But seeing as how that isn't going happen, I guess all I can do is enjoy the 26 episodes we have, and be thankful we got those. Thank you, show. I came for Jonny Lee Miller but I stayed for much, much more. (Sam Jaeger! Tee hee...)

Thank you to everyone for sticking with me through these picspams. If you want more Eli Stone please join us at elistonefic. It may not be as good as having the show but it's all we have left. We'd love to see you post there. :-)

So long!

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 4 - Follow the Yellow Brick Road [The Mentalist]

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 12:26:20 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 4 - Follow the Yellow Brick Road
Summary: What do you want most in the world? Post episode 1x18.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

"You knew he was going to do that, didn't you?"

Jane looked up from his crossword. "What?" he asked, feigning surprise.

Van Pelt's eyes narrowed. "The whole 'do what you want to do most in the world' suggestion."

"You mean, did I know Rigsby was going to kiss you? Absolutely not. I thought he'd go for the left over pizza."

The smile died on Van Pelt's lips when Jane's own serene expression did not waver. As she stared at him a faint blush crept up her neck and colored her cheeks.

"Oh."

"But it's interesting that you thought I'd think that," Jane mused before concentrating on the crossword once more.

When Rigsby emerged from Lisbon's office Van Pelt turned back to her computer, busying herself with her case notes. She studiously avoided looking at him, and Rigsby in turn was making a show of not looking at her. From his seat on the couch, Jane just smiled to himself.

"Next time, someone else can get the damn case closed pizza," Cho said after he entered briskly and dropped the box on his desk.

"The first one didn't count, it was still your turn," Lisbon reminded him, close behind. "With Rigsby getting the all clear we have double the reason to celebrate."

She lifted the lid to take a slice, then crinkled her nose. "Pineapple?"

"It was already made," Cho said.

"You mean it wasn't sold at lunch time and you got it cheap," Lisbon groused.

"I like pineapple," Rigsby piped up, reaching over Cho's shoulder.

"Imagine my shock," she commented, before returning to her office with pizza in hand.

Rigsby helped himself to a second slice, then a third before Cho protested and pushed him away. From her desk, Van Pelt declined the box when it was offered to her, then watched as Jane did the same. She glanced back at him after a few moments, wondering why he never joined in their team ritual. Maybe if they had sandwiches he might, she thought. Jane seemed to like sandwiches. She wondered why.

But Patrick Jane didn't share details like that about himself. He was quick to point out others' likes and dislikes, their secrets, their peccadilloes, their heart's desires. Van Pelt was sure his trick with Rigsby had been intentional. It proved he was in a trance, she admitted, but she also knew there were any number of other ways Jane could have shown it. As usual she was left questioning his motives, wondering what, if anything, he was trying to achieve by meddling in their lives, convinced of some ulterior motive… or looking for a sign that it wasn't just sport and his colleagues meant something to him. That she did.

Van Pelt turned away swiftly when he looked up and caught her staring at him. She waited for the flash of white in her peripheral vision as he smiled at her, but it did not come. She chanced a peek back in his direction to find his face somber, a familiar sadness in his eyes that never failed to cause her stomach to knot sympathetically. He held her gaze for a moment, then folded up his newspaper and announced he was calling it a day.

Cho and Rigsby mumbled their farewells with mouths full, neither man giving him more than a parting glance. Only Van Pelt watched him leave. She went back to her work with every intention of finishing her notes, but it was hard to concentrate. After a while, when she'd been staring at her blinking cursor for a full minute, she decided to give up. Work would always be there in the morning.

"I'll see you tomorrow, guys," she said.

Rigsby gave her a swift and guilty look as she passed him, which Van Pelt tried to diffuse with a smile. She hoped the awkwardness between them wouldn't last long. Things were confusing enough when it came to Rigsby, and neither of them needed the added complication. Since his run in with Dan Hollenbeck, she was doing her best to ignore what was happening. Denial was easy.

Of course Jane's stunt had made that almost impossible. But Van Pelt was determined to try. She planted a smile on her face as she left the CBI building, over compensating for the benefit of colleagues who cared nothing for her situation with her co-worker. She let the expression drop when she reached her rental car – another reminder of Dan Hollenbeck. Van Pelt couldn't wait until her insurance came through with a replacement for the car that Jane had so successfully damaged.

She stopped when she saw the gray Citroën still in the car park. Jane was nowhere in sight. Van Pelt paused, her fingers curled around her key, as she decided what to do. Heads, go home and put all of them out of her mind. A glass of wine, a long, hot bath. That's what she should do.

But then there was tails.

She walked quickly towards the playground before she could change her mind, curious to see if she was right. When she saw his blond curly head in the distance her triumphant grin was instantaneous, if short lived. Perhaps some of his deducting skills were rubbing off on her, she thought. Or perhaps, she contemplated, she knew him a little better than she realized.

Van Pelt said nothing as she sat down beside him. She considered a few one-liners, but abandoned them when she saw his peaceful state. He was watching the children playing and parents chatting with the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Well done," he said eventually, though not looking at her.

"Thank you."

"Although it's a little obvious that you'd find me here, you have to admit."

Van Pelt huffed softly.

"My car is still there, so I had to be on foot. We were only here yesterday, and I described this place as safe, a place to relax."

"You didn't mention that you came here all the time," Van Pelt murmured. She felt another flash of satisfaction when that got his attention.

Jane's smile grew a little wider and his eyes shone with admiration. "Bravo."

She bowed her head in acknowledgement, echoing his smile. They both went back to watching the playground.

"I wish I understood how you did it," Van Pelt said after a long pause. "I mean, I watched you when you were working on Rigsby. I watched your eyes, listened to your voice, saw your movements. But I can't understand how you do it."

Jane shrugged. "Anything can be learned."

"I don't know." Van Pelt waited again, looking at him now. "Sometimes I want you to do it to me – to try to hypnotize me – so I can maybe understand it a little better. To see if you could."

Jane's eyes met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. "I could," he said.

She laughed soundlessly. "I know. That's what scares me."

"Why would you be scared?" His brow furrowed.

Van Pelt looked away, momentarily losing her nerve. Then she forced herself to turn back to him.

"Because of what I might have done if it was me instead of Rigsby. If you told me to do what I wanted most."

She offered him a sad smile then got up before he could reply.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said and walked away.

Jane's eyes followed her, the playground forgotten.

Picspam: Eli Stone - ep. 212

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 11:10:27 GMT

Eli Stone picspam: Where people wear nice suits and talk a lot

Episode 212 ("Tailspin")

If you haven't seen this episode and don't want to be spoiled, turn back now!

Here it is, the penultimate episode. I can't believe it's almost over. :-(

Father-in-law approval. I love it.

*swoon* Nate in doctor mode = HOT. Just sayin'.

WTF? Jeremy Stone? Damn it, IMDb you totally lied and said his name was Aaron. Humph.

Yay for the return of Tom Cavanagh!

Shazaam! That's one helluva pay day.

Aw, Frank is Eli's brother from another mother.
I'm very glad to see them reconcile, plus bonus Nate and Frank scenes make Broedy happy.

Picspam: Eli Stone - ep. 211

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 11:57:44 GMT

Eli Stone picspam: Where people wear nice suits and talk a lot

Episode 211 ("Mortal Kombat")

If you haven't seen this episode and don't want to be spoiled, turn back now!

Okay, I know this wasn't exactly a bed of roses in the Eli/Maggie department, but I don't care because TAYLOR AND MATT ARE MADE OF AWESOME, ESPECIALLY MATT, AND WE TOTALLY GOT TO FIND OUT WHAT THEY'RE HAVING AND HE WAS ADORABLE AND MADE BLUEBERRY PANCAKES AND NOW HE'S WORKING AT WSA AND IF SHE DOESN'T HURRY UP AND TELL HIM THAT SHE LOVES HIM I WILL SCREAM! Yeah, I'm calm.

Thank you, show. I got some closure. And we have two episodes left, so would it be too presumptuous to ask for a little more?

Jack McPhee needs to go back to the Creek and Jamey Sheridan will always be Randall Flagg to me. Shudder.

Who's your daddy?

Oh Matt, as if I couldn't love you any more...

OMG, Taylor and Eli actually being friends. Taylor pointing out that the woman for Eli has been there all along in the form of Maggie. I love pregnant Taylor. And I love the support she gives him here, as if admitting to Matt in the last episode that Eli isn't the love of her life has made her realize she can be a true friend to him. Awesome.

Silly boy.

I have no words.

No one needs to see that.

Who does Jack McPhee think he's talking to?

Aw, Daddy!Matt... I asked for it and I got it. And it was lovely. (Plus I'm happy with the announcement because even if we don't get to see the bundle of joy we won't have to make it up when it comes to the inevitable fanfic that must be written. Oh yes, there will be fanfic.)

And Grandpa's happy, too. Bless.

No Nate? Boo! And hurry up and fix the Eli/Maggie stuff, k? Then we can all part as friends, show, and I won't have to hold a grudge. But seriously, thank you for the Matt scenes. Squee!

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 3 - Whiter Shade of Pale [The Mentalist]

Thu, 19 Mar 2009 13:12:27 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 3 - Whiter Shade of Pale
Summary: Jane tries to reach Van Pelt after the events of 'Bloodshot'. Post episode 1x16.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

She stayed away from the office for three days.

Rigsby was on medical leave. Cho grumbled about being left with all the paperwork while Lisbon farmed out cases to other teams. No one mentioned Van Pelt to explain her absence. No one had to. But Jane couldn't let it go.

"Did you talk to her this morning?" he asked, poking his head inside Lisbon's office. She didn't bother looking up from her work.

"Leave it alone, Jane."

"You should talk to her. You know, woman to woman. Let her know it's not her fault Dan Hollenbeck wooed his way into her life in order to kill me. She isn't responsible for Rigsby's injuries. He's being waited on hand and foot by his mother and probably having the time of his life."

"She'll be back in a couple of days," Lisbon said, glancing up at him. She kept some of the exasperation from her tone when she saw Jane's puppy dog eyes. "Why don't you call her, if you're so worried?"

"I totaled her car."

"And damaged a few others. Including mine," Lisbon reminded him.

"She won't want to talk to me." The heaviness in Jane's voice caused her to pay more attention. Lisbon narrowed her eyes slightly and didn't miss the look that flashed across his face, like he'd been caught. He shrugged off the door jamb and disappeared into the main office.

Jane took up residence on the couch, but his mind was restless. There were no cases to distract him, no friendly team bickering to amuse him. Cho had already rebuked any conversation he tried to start and the sight of Rigsby and Van Pelt's empty chairs only served to darken his mood.

There was nothing keeping him there. Lisbon was too busy with work to notice his absence. Cho would probably welcome it. But Jane had nowhere else to go, at least nowhere that would offer any solace.

With a decisive grunt he pushed himself up. It couldn't hurt. He was concerned about her. If Lisbon wasn't going to confront her then he would just have to do it himself.

0 0 0 0

He knew she would be at home. No running back to mom and dad in Iowa to escape what had happened. That wasn't Van Pelt. But he hadn't expected her to take time off work either. He knew she was mortified that she'd allowed Dan Hollenbeck into their world, embarrassed that she'd been duped. But Jane was surprised that she appeared to be having trouble facing them. He didn't like it when Van Pelt surprised him.

She answered the door after his first knock, appeared fully dressed and groomed – no unwashed hair and three day old pajamas for Grace Van Pelt. Her face showed no emotion upon seeing him, which he had to give her credit for.

"I got my sight back," he said by way of hello. He followed it with a bright smile.

"I see that," she replied evenly.

"I just thought I'd stop by and mention it, seeing as how you haven't been at work. I guessed you maybe hadn't heard."

She exhaled audibly. "Lisbon told me."

"She did? Good. I'm glad."

Van Pelt's fingers curled around the edge of the door. She made no move to invite him in. She just waited until he spoke again.

"Rigsby's fine, too."

"What do you want, Jane?" Her patience had run out. There was no warmth in her voice and Jane didn't like it.

"I think you should come back to work," he said with all sincerity.

"I will. I'll be back soon."

"I think you should come back now."

Van Pelt's mouth tightened. She thought better of what she was going to say and remained silent.

"Can I use your bathroom?" he asked, brightening.

She couldn't hide the quirk of her lips. "That's pretty lame, Jane."

"What are you talking about? I have to go."

"You just want to see inside my apartment. Look for clues. Look for anything so you can psychoanalyze me whenever you like. Whenever you're bored and looking to amuse yourself."

Jane's brow wrinkled at her accusatory tone. "I just have to use the bathroom," he said quietly. He held her gaze until she looked down with a sigh.

"Fine," she replied, defeated.

Van Pelt stood back and allowed him to enter. He didn't make a show of looking around as she pointed to a doorway down the hall. His glances were more subtle, and he saw what he expected. Van Pelt was neat. Her décor was understated, even sparse, as if she had just moved in or spent little time there. There were family pictures on the bookshelf – frame after frame of smiling friends and relatives with their arms slung around each other's shoulders. A man holding up a fish in a clichéd pose. A wedding party. If he didn't know better he would swear they were the photos that came with the frames. Perfect moments in time.

He looked at himself in her bathroom mirror as he hunched over the sink to wash his hands. Stared deep into his own eyes as he had done so often since regaining his sight. Ignored the voice in his head that challenged him on what he was doing there. He was just checking on a colleague, he answered silently.

Jane lingered briefly, resisting the temptation to open her medicine cabinet. That would be cliché, he decided. There would be no surprises there. He wandered back into the living room to find Van Pelt standing there waiting for him, her arms crossed over her chest. She met his steady gaze, her face devoid of emotion once more.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you." He stared at her, and it became a silent battle. She was waiting for him to start looking around the room, to put his observation skills and brilliant memory to use. He steadfastly refused to give her the satisfaction of predicting his behavior.

"Why aren't you at work?" she asked eventually and he knew he'd won that round.

"Nothing to do. No new case yet," he replied with a small shrug.

"When's Rigsby due back?"

"Not for another week. There's never been so much food in the kitchen."

Another small smile was her response, but he'd yet to see any real emotion on her face. He wondered when Van Pelt had gotten so good at hiding her feelings. She was usually an open book for him. There was no hidden agenda. No games. Unlike him. But this new empty façade perplexed Jane. It was a puzzle, and this time he couldn't help himself.

"Have you spoken to anyone? About Dan?" he probed, and the calm, experienced Jane persona was in full swing.

Van Pelt's arms drew in a little tighter. "I gave Lisbon my report."

"I don't mean just what happened that night."

"I know what you meant, Jane," she said coldly.

"If you want, you could talk to me."

She smirked. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because..." Jane stopped. They weren't just colleagues. They weren't quite friends. They'd been more than that for a brief moment – something he chose not to think about but it was harder to ignore as she glared at him. "Sometimes it helps to talk," he said instead.

"Hypocrite."

Van Pelt walked over to her breakfast counter and kept her back to him, busying her hands by arranging a stack of catalogues.

"Okay, you got me there," he said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation into sunnier territory.

But when Van Pelt turned around a few moments later none of the anger had left her.

"Just because what happened between us… happened, doesn't mean you know me, Jane."

His eyes sought the floor. "I know that."

"Then why did you say those things to me? About my past? Were you trying to hurt me?"

"No," he said, looking up. He felt a pang of guilt. It had partly been a guess, the rest he suspected from the way she'd quickly left the hotel room a couple of months earlier. She'd shut down faster than he had after their impromptu coupling, and had never brought it up again. Not directly. Jane got the impression he even thought about it more than she did.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

She wasn't letting him off so easily. "You go on about Rigsby's feelings for me, you ask all those questions about Dan. Insisting you wanted to meet him. Why? You didn't suspect him of anything then. You just wanted to pry. You're supposed to be intuitive. Did it never occur to you that I don't want to discuss these things with you?"

Van Pelt pressed her lips together, as if forcing herself to shut up lest she give more away. From the look on her face Jane could tell she wished she hadn't said that much in the first place.

He took a step towards her. "Grace..."

Her eyes flashed at the sound of her first name and she flushed with emotion. "You should go," she said, biting the inside of one cheek.

Jane hesitated. He didn't want to leave, which surprised him most of all. In situations like these he was quick to run, to make his escape. He didn't want the emotional engagement. He didn't want the memories of his family which were so quick to surface if he allowed them.

But Van Pelt was staring hard at him again and he found himself backing away, giving her what she asked. He waited as she opened the door for him.

"You'll be back in a couple of days?" he murmured, pausing next to her as he exited.

She looked up and met his eyes, her face only inches from his, then nodded.

"Good." He took a few steps outside and glanced back. "I'm sorry about banging up your car."

She was stunned into silence for a moment, not expecting the comment. Then the façade returned. "I was always lousy at giving directions," she joked darkly.

He smiled at her attempt at humor – at her attempt to put him at ease. Van Pelt was still in there somewhere.

"I'll see you soon," he said.

"Apparently so," she replied. After only a brief pause she closed the door.

Part 1
Part 2

Picspam: Eli Stone - ep. 210

Wed, 18 Mar 2009 11:10:59 GMT

Eli Stone picspam: Where people wear nice suits and talk a lot

Episode 210 ("Sonoma")

If you haven't seen this episode and don't want to be spoiled, turn back now!

Aaaand we're back. Ish. Thanks to the Sci Fi channel in the UK screening this long awaited episode it's out there on the interwebs. But that doesn't excuse the obnoxious channel stamp across the middle of my screen. The number of times it was visible in the middle of someone's forehead is disturbing. But it would be churlish of me to complain about such things when they give me Eli.

I'll keep the commentary to a minimum, as much as I can, so as not to further spoil anyone who couldn't help themselves but peek... (But watch out for any comments from people who've seen it too! There is much to discuss.)

Holy hell, I did not see that coming.

Like I wasn't going to use a full size pic of half naked Matt...

These two are my OTP when it comes to BFF.

Insert your favourite duet that they're singing here. "Summer Nights" is my pick.
Damn that Sci Fi badge is annoying. We get it. It's a brand new episode.

Hold on to your hats...

I didn't care for the whole past thing (why did the writers bother?) but I'll take the kissing.

Aw, jailhouse love.

That touch right there? *melt*

Is it just me or does Sam Jaeger look like a younger Scott Bakula here? Ish.

Sigh. I have such mixed feelings about this episode because we're one step closer to it all being over. :-/

Top Chef

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 09:32:39 GMT

I have one word to say:

BOO!

Seriously pissed here.

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 6 [Eli Stone]

Sun, 01 Feb 2009 05:03:42 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

For the next few days all Eli did was concentrate on work, avoiding interactions with his family and friends as much as possible. He put off going back to the hospital for a follow up appointment with the psychiatrist, relying on Nate to tell Dr. Fields that he was back to normal. No more delusions about being from the future… not that he admitted to his brother, anyway.

He kept to himself at work, using his need to catch up on everything he'd missed as an excuse to avoid talking to Maggie or Patti. It was also useful in staying clear of Jordan who continued to glare at him every time Eli had to leave the sanctuary of his office. He worked through all the case files and documents Patti brought him, and took all the meetings she arranged without complaint. He hoped that somewhere, somehow, there would be a clue to how he could get back to where he was supposed to be, but so far nothing had shown up.

At night, Eli had taken to writing down all the details of the pro bono cases he'd taken after having a vision – names, dates, places – all the minutiae he could remember. He scribbled furiously as he recalled how he came across the cases, what research he had Patti or Maggie do, what help he got from Nate. Eli wasn't sure of much, but he was certain that he needed to help these people again. He couldn't let things go a different way, like he had with Beth's case. The ramifications for any of the cases going differently were untold. At night, he found himself dreaming about dragons and car crashes and, when the nightmares were at their worst, earthquakes that killed thousands.

Eli was determined to put things right just in case he was unable to get back. If he was going to relive this part of his life he needed to make sure that what happened the first time around happened again. He was reasonably confident that Jordan's friend Mason Andrews would seek out his help on his case against Keith Bennett, and that Jordan would offer Keith a job at WPK when it was all over. He was unsure how he was supposed to get Jordan to bring Taylor into the firm as well, however. Last time it had been her idea. She had wanted to try and make things work with Eli, but he knew he'd probably blown that option now unless he tricked her into thinking they could get back together, she took the job at WPK, Eli broke up with her again, and then he could sit back and wait for Matt Dowd to swoop in. However it happened, Eli knew they were meant to be together and have a baby.

Eli became preoccupied with trying to manage everyone's future. There was Maggie to worry about – trying to convince her that Scott would cheat on her and they needed to break up. He had to get to Angela through Patti to stop her getting into drugs, if he could. And Nate and Beth – Eli knew he would have to be creative there. He had to arrange for them to meet somehow. All these plans he added to the journal.

It wasn't until he'd written everything down that he noticed what he'd been using to capture it all. The journal looked suspiciously like his father's. Eli wondered if anyone reading it would think him insane – the dates revealed he was writing about the future and some of the impressions and memories that he included bordered on raving. He decided to hide the journal under his mattress in case Nate found it lying around and ordered him back to the hospital after all. He wasn't going to do anyone any good there.

Eli had hoped that writing it all down would help clear his mind, and with that clarity would come insight into his situation. But instead he lay awake each night, unable to sleep. The journal was like a beating heart under the floorboards. He couldn't escape his destiny, but nor could he reclaim it, trapped as he was. Eli wondered if he wasn't going insane, after all.

0 0 0 0

At the start of second week back at WPK he was returning from a meeting when Maggie fell in step beside him.

"Mr. Stone. Eli. Hi," she said chirpily.

"Maggie."

Eli looked around for a distraction, something to divert her attention. He wasn't sure how to deal with her yet. He kept walking, lengthening his stride in the hopes of deterring her from keeping up, but she was not to be put off.

"I've been wanting to catch you, to say thank you," Maggie said, oblivious to his mood.

"For what?"

"Oscar and Blanca Ramirez. You were right. I don't know how you were right, but their naturalization papers were bogus. The case is with the Immigration Department but I'm hopeful that because they were up front about it they'll get their proper approval to stay in the country."

"That's great, congratulations," Eli said dismissively. He was nearing his office but Maggie was still following him. He decided to keep going so she wouldn't take it as an invitation to stop and chat, and headed for the upper floor.

Maggie matched his stride. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciated your advice. You saved them from potential deportation. If we'd proceeded with the case against Gro Plus…"

"But you didn't, happy ending, let's leave it there." Eli stopped briefly to put a hand on her shoulder and give her a forced smile in the hopes of ending the conversation. But when he started walking again she doggedly stayed with him.

"I was wondering if you needed help with anything? Mr. Posner has all the associates he needs for research. I thought maybe you were working on something I could assist with."

"Not right now, but if anything comes up I'll be sure to let you know."

"Really, I don't mind. To be honest I'd appreciate the work. If I have to read one more case history on car manufacturing I think I'll…"

Maggie was not able to complete her sentence because she crashed into Eli's back. He had stopped dead in his tracks as they passed the conference room.

"Oompf," she said, unable to avoid the collision. She followed his gaze into the room where Jordan and Matt Dowd were meeting with a client. "Is there something wrong, Eli?"

"It's her," he gasped.

Eli stared in disbelief at the middle-aged woman sitting in the conference room – her short, dark hair, her tight-lipped smile as she responded to something Jordan was saying. He couldn't believe it. Eli frowned as he stumbled forward like he was sleepwalking and pushed open the door.

"It's you!" he cried, pointing a finger at her.

Jordan stopped mid-sentence at the interruption and looked less than pleased. Matt shook his head and smiled apologetically at their client but she was gazing serenely at Eli.

"Mr. Stone, is there something you need?" Jordan asked with barely concealed anger. He turned his attention to the woman. "I apologize, Mrs. Calhoun."

"That's quite alright," she responded graciously, her eyes not leaving Eli's. She smiled again.

"W- what are you doing here?" Eli stammered, breathing heavily.

"Mrs. Calhoun is considering signing with the firm," said Jordan. His glare disappeared when he faced her again. "Mr. Stone is one of our, er… senior associates. Eli, perhaps you and I can continue this at a later time."

Jordan got to his feet and walked Eli smoothly to the door. "Please excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Calhoun."

Jordan pushed Eli into the corridor where Maggie was waiting, wide-eyed at the appearance of the managing partner and Eli's apparent lack of awareness at the fury darkening Jordan's features.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, keeping his voice low. "Vera Calhoun's family has a philanthropy portfolio of half a billion dollars, Mr. Stone. Needless to say we want their business, and bizarre interruptions like yours are hardly the image of WPK we wish to portray."

"But it's her," Eli replied in bewilderment.

"I suggest you get back to work. You and I will talk later." Jordan's eyes narrowed even further before he returned to the conference room.

"Eli, are you okay?" Maggie asked when he hadn't moved.

He turned his blank stare on her, not really seeing her, before walking blindly back to his office. After days of confusion and disorientation, uncertainty and doubt, he finally had a lead. He didn't know what it meant, but it was still a lead.

Now all Eli had to do was work out why the Fiduciary was at Wethersby, Posner and Klein, and how he was going to get her alone to talk to her.

0 0 0 0

"You want me to do what?" Patti replied in her best indignant tone.

"Just talk to Jordan's assistant – I need Vera Calhoun's phone number. Her address if you can get it. Just don't advertise the fact to Jordan."

"Who is Vera Calhoun?"

"Just a prospective new client," Eli explained hurriedly. He urged Patti out of her seat.

"And why the secrecy? Does Jordan know you're going to contact her?"

He considered lying, but he knew he wouldn't get away with it with Patti. "Not exactly, no."

"Eli..."

"It's nothing untoward, I promise. I just need to talk to her."

Patti sized him up, thinking it over, before reluctantly agreeing.

"Now would be best," he said quickly, all the while scanning the office for any sign of Jordan.

He waited until she was gone before running back up the stairs to the conference room. He snuck a peak through the glass to see if the Fiduciary was still there, but the room was empty. Cursing under his breath, Eli ran back down the stairs towards the elevators, scanning the floor for the pale blue outfit she was wearing. He couldn't see her anywhere, or Jordan or Matt. He swore again.

Rather than wait in his office like a sitting duck for Jordan, Eli hovered around the legal secretaries' section where he could watch for Patti's return. He hopped from one foot to the other impatiently until he spotted her.

"Psst, Patti! Over here!" he called out, then slipped into the copy room.

Patti rolled her eyes and huffed as she made her way across the floor to join him.

"Eli, what in the world are you up to? Acting like you're in a bad spy movie."

He ignored her, holding out his hands expectantly. "Did you get it?"

"Of course I did."

She withdrew a piece of paper from a folder – a print out of Vera Calhoun's contact details.

"Patti, you're a star."

"Hmm, remember that when it's time to talk pay rises. And I'd better not get into trouble for this, Eli. According to Rebecca, Vera Calhoun's grandfather was some oil tycoon. The family's worth a gazillion dollars and Jordan and Posner have been courting the family for years. Although I've never heard of them before." Patti didn't like it when she missed something like that.

Eli smiled down at the paper, not looking at her. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started dialing.

"Aren't you going back to your office?" asked Patti.

Eli glanced around again. "No, not right now. If Jordan comes looking for me tell him I'm seeing a client. Don't mention Vera Calhoun."

"That would require me to know what's going on," Patti muttered as Eli continued his furtive looks, cell phone pressed to his ear. She left him to it.

The number rang for a long time, but no one answered and it did not go to voicemail. Eli waited until it rang out and snapped his phone shut in frustration. The address on the piece of paper was in Pacific Heights – not far by cab, but then the Fiduciary had not long left the office, if indeed she was gone. He decided he'd have to wait for a while before going to find her.

All he had to do was avoid Jordan for a few hours and try to work out what her being there really meant. Eli's spirits rose with the thought that he may be able to go home after all.

0 0 0 0

Eli managed to stay out of Jordan's path for the rest of the day, using the law library as cover. He tried calling the number listed on Vera Calhoun's file all afternoon but there was never any answer. He tried Googling her but found little of substance, just a few photographs from charity dinners and mentions of substantial donations. The Fiduciary looked the same in each of the photographs, smiling that small, knowing smile and looking straight into the camera until Eli got the impression she was looking right at him.

He chanced a return to his office and got Patti to find out that Jordan was tied up in other meetings for the rest of the afternoon. Eli was glad of the reprieve, but it didn't stop Matt Dowd from dropping by to call him on his behavior.

"So, just a heads up, Stone – Jordan is pissed," Matt said as he entered Eli's office uninvited.

"Gee, thank you, Matt, I never would have guessed," Eli replied.

"What's with the weirdo behavior? Do you know Vera Calhoun?"

"No. Kind of. I thought I'd met her before."

"Well, if you've ruined Jordan's big chance to sign her I'd enjoy this office while you still have it, buddy." Matt looked around. "Actually, you know I wouldn't mind this one myself. You've got more light than I do."

Eli ignored Matt while he mentally redecorated his office. It was getting close to the end of the day and he decided it was time to pay the Fiduciary a visit. Matt laughed when Eli started packing up his briefcase, and went back to his own office to continue working.

Eli almost ran through the car park, thankful that one of the benefits of being back was that he still had his Millennium Falcon. The car's engine purred to life – a sound that Eli loved. He drove quickly to the Pacific Heights address on Vera Calhoun's file, pushing the speed limit when traffic allowed. He needed answers and his patience was growing thin.

"You have arrived at your destination," intoned the GPS as Eli drew to a slow stop.

He stared at the children's park which was full of kids running and playing. Eli checked the address on Patti's paper but it was correct. He got out of the car, thoroughly confused, and scanned the park for any sign of the Fiduciary. But she wasn't there. It was a dead end. The address, just like her phone number, was fake. Just like the photos on the Internet, as well.

Eli felt cheated as he scrunched up the paper in anger and threw it into the gutter. He wanted to yell but that would only draw attention. He slumped against the side of the car, defeated and even more lost than before. He had pinned all his hopes on confronting the Fiduciary and finally getting some answers, but now he would get none.

Eli bent wearily to pick up the useless piece of paper and got back behind the wheel. The low rumble of the car engine just seemed to mock him this time.

Fic: Itadakimasu! [Eli Stone]

Mon, 26 Jan 2009 13:18:49 GMT

Title: Itadakimasu!
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Maggie
Summary: Eli. Maggie. First date. Sushi.

Mmm, oishii

Fail!

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 01:18:46 GMT

Wait, what?

There's a TV in which both Jonny Lee Miller AND Simon Baker Denny star?

Talk about favourite fandom collisions.

Why have I never heard of this???

Australian TV is made of fail. Give me Smith! I don't care if it was cancelled. (But of course it fucking was.)

Fic: For the Living [The Mentalist]

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 13:47:22 GMT

Title: For the Living
Summary: Jane receives an unexpected visitor at the office.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Lisbon

They were trying to discuss theories on a new case, the Serious Crimes team sat around the conference table in the CBI Sacramento office. But Lisbon's attempts to keep them on track and Cho's dull intoning of the police report were thwarted by Jane's insistence that he knew who the killer was just by the type of shoe prints left at the crime scene. A disbelieving assertion from Van Pelt resulted in a long, detailed explanation from Jane about the link between uncomfortable footwear and the propensity to commit murder.

"Can we get back to the Jones case?" Lisbon asked, growing impatient.

But now Rigsby and Cho were joining the debate, and Jane just sat back in his chair with a grin at the ensuing argument between the agents.

"Jane, for God's sake, tell them you made it up," Lisbon implored when none of them would concede the other's point of view.

When he didn't respond Lisbon saw that his attention was elsewhere. Jane was staring wide-eyed at the upper floor of the office where a gray-haired man was talking to another agent. Lisbon followed his gaze but she didn't recognize the man. When she looked back to query Jane about it his seat was empty – he was walking swiftly towards the office exit without a word.

"What's that about?" asked Cho, his argument with Rigsby forgotten.

"I have no idea, but I think I'll go find out," Lisbon replied, still looking after Jane. She made her way up the stairs where the man was waiting.

"I was just calling Mr. Jane, he has a visitor," said a junior agent when Lisbon approached.

"I'll take it from here," she replied before turning on the visitor. "I'm Agent Lisbon."

The man shook her outstretched hand. "Frank Lassiter."

"Can I help you, Mr. Lassiter?"

"I'm here to see Patrick Jane," he said, glancing around uncomfortably. "I understand he works here."

"Can I ask what it's in relation to?"

"It's personal." Lassiter's stern gaze faltered slightly when Lisbon failed to react. His voice became less hard. "I'm his father-in-law. Or used to be."

Lisbon's face remained composed at the news, though she felt surprise. She had never met any of Jane's family, or more precisely, his wife's. She didn't even know he had any contact with them. And judging from Jane's reaction, Lisbon guessed he wasn't looking forward to the reunion.

"Would you like to come with me?" she said gently.

Downstairs, the rest of the team were watching their interaction closely.

"Do you think he's in trouble?" mused Rigsby.

"Guy doesn't look like CBI. Or a lawyer," said Cho.

"Maybe he's the complainant. Jane has a knack for pissing people off."

"Why don't we just ask Jane?" said Van Pelt, glancing in the direction in which he made his swift exit.

"Did it look like he wanted to talk to you?" Cho countered.

"We can't just leave him on his own," she argued. "He looked upset."

Rigsby's dark eyes met hers. "All the more reason to lay off. It's Jane."

"You don't think we should make sure he's okay?" Van Pelt said, undeterred and a little put out by the lack of concern for their colleague.

"I think he'd prefer to be left alone."

"Well, I think you're wrong," she said.

Cho shook his head and went back to concentrating on his notes. Rigsby tried to catch Van Pelt's attention but she was watching Lisbon leading the visitor downstairs to one of the interview rooms. Within a minute she reappeared, and all eyes were on her.

"Someone get me two cups of coffee while one of you finds Jane. Get him back here," she said.

"Two coffees coming up, boss," Rigsby replied, quickly getting to his feet so he didn't have to perform the second task. He disappeared into the kitchen, avoiding Van Pelt's narrow-eyed glare.

Lisbon waited but neither Cho nor Van Pelt got up to find Jane. She gave them an exasperated look as they stared silently at one another, like they were playing telepathic rock, paper, scissors. Van Pelt eventually rolled her eyes and stood up.

"I'll go," she said.

"Thank you," Lisbon replied.

Cho looked pleased with himself as he went back to work, and Lisbon didn't blame him. She went back into the interview from where Jane's father-in-law was sitting taking in his surroundings.

"I thought you might like some coffee," she said with a smile. "Someone from the team is going to see if he's available. Won't be long."

"You mean he heard I was here and took off," Lassiter said with a derisive snort. "Typical Patrick. Never could face up to me for what he did."

Lisbon frowned as she took a seat opposite him "You blame him for the murder of your daughter and granddaughter?"

Emotion flooded the man's face. "Was it his fault? No. I know that monster did it. But Patrick never did know when to shut his mouth. He goaded him, calling him those names on TV. He should have known. He should have been there to protect them."

"What is it you want here, Mr. Lassiter?" Lisbon asked. She knew Jane blamed himself for Red John's crimes against his family but it was more difficult to accept hearing it from someone else. She couldn't help feeling protective of him.

"This weekend is my daughter's birthday," Lassiter said, forcing himself to be calm. "Every year we still celebrate it, my family. Every year we invite Patrick but he never shows. My wife wants him there, says it's only right. And every year I see her disappointment. It's about time he had the courage to face us."

"Surely you can understand why that might be difficult for Ja- Patrick. He lost everything when... when it happened."

Lassiter's expression softened further. "So did we. And we lost him too. Patrick hasn't even spoken to us since they were killed. We never had a chance to talk to him about it. He just shut down. He was part of our family for ten years – he was like a son to my wife and me. And then nothing. No apology, no explanation. No acknowledgment of our grief – only his."

"Mr. Lassiter, I don't know how much you know about what Jane went through after the murders..." Lisbon replied, choosing her words carefully to protect his privacy.

"I know about the breakdown, Agent Lisbon. I understand that it nearly destroyed him. Trust me, I know. But he owes us this."

Lisbon said nothing more as Rigsby knocked on the door and brought in the coffee.

0 0 0 0

Van Pelt scoured the exterior of the CBI building, noting Jane's car was still in its usual spot. Then she heard the sound of a basketball hitting the asphalt. She rounded the back of the car park to the space where a hoop had been erected – a place for the agents to let off some steam. Jane was dribbling the ball contemplatively, then sunk it gracefully. He collected the ball and circled the hoop again before taking another successful shot. Van Pelt watched him from the sidelines for a while, waiting, but he chose to ignore her.

"Who is he?" she asked finally, after Jane missed a particularly difficult shot.

Jane bounced the basketball in a perfect, almost hypnotic rhythm. He let the ball go as he replied, "Someone from my past." He made the shot.

"Family? Friend?" she prompted.

"Neither."

"Whoever he is, you seem intent on avoiding him."

Jane's eyes crinkled in a smile. "You have keen powers of observation, Agent Van Pelt."

She crossed her arms and offered him a small smile in return. "I suppose you don't want to talk about it either."

He gathered the ball and stopped his movements long enough to look deep into her eyes. "Really, your astuteness is astounding."

"You'd rather shoot hoops," she said.

"Why not? It's a beautiful day. Fresh air, a little exercise. I can think of worse ways of spending my time. Oh, yes!" The basketball swooped cleanly through the hoop from twenty feet away.

"Okay." Van Pelt held out her hands for the ball.

"You gonna play me?" Jane asked, amused.

"Why not? First to eleven?"

"Better make it five."

"You think I can't take you?"

Jane grinned. "I think judging from your height and the athletic sensibilities of your family you may have some chops. But you're a girl."

She scoffed in response. "Let's make it worth our while, then. If I win you tell me who the guy is and why you don't want to talk to him."

"And if I win?"

"Name it," Van Pelt said with a shrug, not breaking her competitive stare.

Jane thought for a moment then smiled. "You have to ask Rigsby out to dinner."

"Oh no. That's hardly a comparable penalty," she said hastily, her cheeks coloring.

"You're right – for you it's win/win. Scared?" He dribbled the ball mockingly.

Van Pelt slid her holster around to the small of her back and demanded the ball.

"Bring it on, Jane," she growled.

0 0 0 0

When Jane and Van Pelt arrived back in the office they were both a little out of breath. She tucked back the strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail while Jane rebuttoned his vest. Rigsby's eyes were like saucers when he saw them, his temper mounted to the point where he was about to ask what the hell they had been up to, when Van Pelt walked over to his desk and asked if he wanted to get some dinner later.

"My treat," she murmured, sounding annoyed.

Rigsby stammered in response and accepted the invitation, while Jane smiled to himself. Van Pelt had already moved back to her desk and was glowering darkly at him as Jane flopped onto the couch.

His eyes had barely closed before Lisbon was at his side.

"You're back," she said.

"I didn't leave."

"Neither has your father-in-law."

The rest of the team all looked at him after the announcement, Van Pelt especially sympathetic. Jane opened his eyes.

"You should talk to him," said Lisbon gently.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

Jane stared up at her, looking small and, if she wasn't mistaken, scared. She held his gaze as she reached out a hand to help him up. She let it go once he was upright.

"He's in there," she murmured, nodding towards the interview room.

Jane's expression was reluctant, but with all eyes on him he took a deep breath and walked towards the door. He paused only briefly before going inside.

The light was dim inside the room, the shades all drawn. Jane's father-in-law stood up and they stared at each other for a long moment.

"Patrick."

"Frank."

"You look well," Lassiter said, his voice gruff. "A little thin, maybe."

Jane smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "How's Maureen?"

"How do you think?"

Jane glanced away.

Lassiter cleared his throat, regretting his harsh tone. He sat down wearily in his seat and waited for Jane to do the same.

"It's her birthday this weekend," he said, trying again.

Jane blinked. "I know."

"We're having a dinner at the house. Maureen would like it if you came."

"I know. But I can't."

"Why not?"

Jane didn't answer.

"I know it's hard for you. But she was our little girl," Lassiter's voice cracked slightly. "We know as well as you what it's like to lose a daughter. She was our pride and joy. And when my little girl's beautiful baby was born..."

Lassiter choked on his words and couldn't continue for a moment, while Jane stared blankly at the wall.

"We know how much it hurts," Lassiter said once he'd composed himself. "But we choose to celebrate their lives. To be thankful for them. And you should be part of that."

Jane's eyes flickered to his father-in-law, his voice barely audible. "I can't do it, Frank. I have to make my peace with it another way."

Lassiter frowned. "You mean you're still hunting the son of a bitch who did this?"

"Yes."

"And when does it stop, Patrick?"

Jane's expression was impenetrable. "When Red John is caught and I've killed him."

"And then what?" Lassiter threw up his hands. "You spend the rest of your life in jail? Or you get locked up in some loony bin again?"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that he will have paid for what he did."

"The rest is your punishment, is that it?"

Jane looked down at the table.

"You… You're an idiot, you know that? An egotistical, self-centered, self-pitying idiot. Do you really think that's what my girl would have wanted? To see you like this? Well, listen here, boy-o. I knew her a lot longer than you did and I loved her too. She never would have wanted this."

Jane's fist came down heavily on the wooden tabletop. "What do you want from me?" he asked in a low, deadly tone.

"I want you to face up to what happened. What you did. I want you to start putting it right."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Jane bit back.

"Not by killing that lunatic. By accepting that you can't change what happened. By sharing your grief with her family – your family. By not shutting us out of your life. You owe it to her, and you owe it to us."

Jane just sat there, simmering with anger.

Lassiter's own ire drained from his face. "You have to forgive yourself, Patrick. You have to let us forgive you too. Help us ease our pain."

"I don't know how to do that," Jane murmured after only silence.

Lassiter let out a soft sigh. "Come to the house this weekend. Just be with us."

There was no response once more. He gave up expecting one when Jane finally whispered, "I'll try."

"Thank you."

Both men stood and Lassiter walked slowly to the door. Jane didn't move, even when his father-in-law stopped in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Jane could barely look at him.

Once Lassiter was gone, he stayed in the interview room for some time. He knew they'd be waiting outside, wanting to know what happened. He knew they meant well but he didn't want to talk to any of them. Jane just wanted to stay there in the quiet. But eventually he heard the door open and Lisbon stepped inside the room and pressed it closed behind her.

"You okay?"

Jane smiled to himself; he knew it would be Lisbon who broke ranks first to check on him. "Ah, I don't think so. No."

"Are you gonna go see them?"

He shrugged slightly.

"It's probably time, don't you think?" Lisbon said.

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that. I guess I'm a coward on top of everything else," Jane replied.

Lisbon leaned against the back of the door, not wanting to encroach upon his personal space any more than she already was. "I don't think you're a coward. I think it'll be hard, and maybe it won't bring you any comfort. But it will for them. And I think that would make your wife happy."

"My wife's dead, Lisbon," Jane said, his voice hard. "She can't feel happiness… or anger, or betrayal, or loss."

"And you're not the only one who can," she countered. "You should be with them. Help them get through it. And maybe, just maybe, it might help you too."

Jane looked up at her like he didn't believe her, but Lisbon's sermon was over. She smiled faintly.

"Come on, we've got work to do."

Jane waited until she was gone before getting up to follow her. He hoped more than anything that Lisbon was right.

FIN

Fic: Fade to Black Pt 2 - Gray Area [The Mentalist]

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 14:27:56 GMT

Title: Fade to Black Pt 2 - Gray Area
Summary: Jane acknowledges a moment of weakness. Post episode 1x13.
Rating: T
Characters: Jane, Van Pelt

He never slept on the office couch. He lay on it often enough, going through the motions of closing his eyes, breathing deeply. But sleep did not come. Sleep rarely came for Patrick Jane.

He listened to the noises of the office. His co-workers. Phone conversations. Typing. Arguments over who ate the last bagel. He listened to all of it – learning, cataloging, remembering.

The sound started to dissipate as evening fell. He hadn't heard Cho and Rigsby for a while, or Lisbon. Nor had he heard Van Pelt, though he knew she was still at her desk. He hadn't heard her chair roll on the floor or the click of her heels. He'd remember if he heard her heels.

She never wore high heels to work, or skirts for that matter. But today she did.

Van Pelt had legs. Nice legs, actually. Jane appreciated the female form like any heterosexual male. He wasn't blind. And he knew Van Pelt didn't wear the skirt for Rigsby. Funny, lovable Rigsby. It would be better for her if she had.

It had been a moment of weakness. A brief interlude in his carefully controlled, even-tempered existence. He would give up that control, that evenness, when it came time to face Red John. Until then it was needed. If only he'd remembered that the night he came back from Tijuana.

He'd pushed things too far at the gallery. It was a means to an end, staged for the artist's benefit. Jane knew how to get what he wanted out of a suspect. But he knew what the ruse would mean to Van Pelt, how it would embarrass her. It had nothing to do with the misogynistic comments and everything to do with the suggestion of a connection between them. Even if it was all a lie.

Jane knew this but he did it anyway. Another moment of weakness. No, not weakness, he decided. Cruelty. She didn't deserve to be treated that way, not after what had happened at the hotel a few short weeks ago.

He opened his eyes only slightly, his pale lashes barely moving as he looked across at her desk. She was reading a file, head bent intently over the paper. One hand massaged her neck and her eyes blinked more rapidly than usual. She was waiting, staying back when she could have left an hour ago.

"Don't you have a home to go to?" he asked, his voice thicker than usual due to the angle of his throat against the sofa arm.

She looked up. She didn't smile or blush. Still annoyed at him then. That made it easier.

"Lisbon has Rigsby and Cho doing extra paperwork over your little trip to LA," she said emotionlessly. "You'd be doing it too, if you weren't just a consultant."

She glanced down, embarrassed. A chink in her armor. "I didn't mean just a consultant. I meant you're not an agent."

She frowned, keeping her eyes averted. "You know what I meant."

Jane's eyes were fully open now. He watched her patiently, waiting until she glanced in his direction to see if he was still staring at her.

"What?"

"I don't mean to make you nervous," he said.

"You don't," she retorted quickly. Too quickly – did she not know who she was talking to?

"You wore a skirt," he pointed out.

"So? I wear skirts."

"No you don't."

Van Pelt's eyes narrowed. "You think I wore it for you? That's a little arrogant even for you, Jane."

He smiled faintly and his shoulders twitched in a shrug. "Arrogant, yes. Incorrect, no."

Her gaze was impassive. "You think you're right about everything and everyone. But you're not."

Jane paused, then got up in a lithe movement for someone who'd been prone and unmoving for several hours. He walked towards her. His expression did not waver as she sat up straighter in her chair, a hint of color rising on her neck. He crouched down before her, his eyes locked with hers.

"Don't waste your time on me, Grace. Or your heart. Stop it, now."

She looked away, speechless. She probably had plenty to say, actually, but Jane could see she was deciding how to do it. How to deny it, how to blast him with a few cutting words to send him on his way. She waited until he wondered if she would just ignore him, then turned back to face him.

"Why do you believe you deserve no forgiveness?" she asked.

Jane, for once, didn't have a reply. Not when she was staring at him so intently, her own hurt forgotten. He clenched his jaw, refusing to betray his steady countenance, to give her any idea that she'd penetrated his façade.

He stood up and her eyes followed his, never faltering.

"It's late. Time I was leaving," he said. Not trusting himself to say anything else he smiled until his eyes crinkled, though there was little warmth in it. He was going home to an empty house full of memories and promises unfulfilled.

She didn't reply as he walked slowly out of the office, didn't follow him, didn't catch his hand as he was leaving and press close to his side. She didn't follow him to his car and slip silently into the passenger seat and wait for him to start the engine, to make him be the one to choose where they ended up.

Van Pelt went back to reading her file.

Jane hated the fact that part of him – a small part but one that was definitely there – was disappointed that she did.

It was a weakness.

Part 1

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 5 [Eli Stone]

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 10:38:16 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

Eli was still brooding over the Beutel settlement when he made his way to the staff kitchen to fill an oversized mug of coffee. Patti had left a fresh stack of documents on his desk for him to deal with but he couldn't concentrate on work. His head had started throbbing again from the sheer weight of the situation he was in – the puzzle he was trying to solve. After his first sip he knew the coffee wasn't going to help matters, so he dumped the rest.

He wandered back to his office, head bowed. It wasn't until he heard a familiar laugh that he looked up sharply. He saw a flash of red and the flick of a brown bob as a small group of associates crossed the office. Eli's breath caught in his throat.

"Maggie. Maggie!" He suddenly yelled across the office. He ignored the looks from everyone else as he sped forward and skidded to a stop in front of her.

"Mr. Stone?" She tried to cover her surprise, glancing quickly between her colleagues.

"Er, have you got a minute?" He gestured towards his office with both thumbs, trying not to appear too eager.

A line creased the middle of her forehead. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"No. No problem." He touched a hand to her elbow to encourage her to go with him. "I just... um, I need your help with something."

"A case?" she asked hopefully as they walked to his office. "I know I haven't been here long and technically I haven't been in court yet, but I'm ready, Mr. Stone. I'd be honored to work with you. I mean, obviously that's what I'm here for. You're a senior associate and I'm a first year associate – I'll do whatever you need me to do. Research, filings, anything." She smiled apologetically. "I talk a lot when I'm nervous. You should probably know this going in."

"Why are you nervous?"

"Probably because I didn't even realize you know who I am. I mean I know who you are, of course. I followed every day of the Griffin trial – you were amazing. That cross on Angela Simons? Wow. I mean, you nailed it, getting her to admit to the leak. Then when opposing counsel couldn't even decide how to object? Really, it was inspiring… and I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

Eli smiled indulgently as he shut his door behind them and waited until she took a seat. He walked around behind his desk but didn't sit down. His expression grew more awkward as she looked up at him expectantly.

"I don't want to talk to you about a case. At least, I don't think it's a case. If it is, it's overkill having this go on so long. I need your help to… What I mean is, I want you to..." Eli stopped when he realized he had no idea what he was actually going to say to her. If he explained what was going on, like he had done with Frank, he still didn't know how Maggie could possibly help him. He doubted she would even believe him – she didn't know him yet or trust him. They hadn't worked together on any pro bono cases that were so dear to her heart. He had never worked with her before, period.

Eli didn't know why he thought she could help him. He suspected he just craved her support, maybe her empathy, because she had always believed him when it came to his visions. But there were no visions anymore, he was stuck in a reality where they had never happened. He ended up just staring blankly at her, completely lost for words.

Maggie tolerated this for a long minute, growing increasingly bewildered.

"So, um, how's it going?" Eli stammered eventually. He cringed at his own words.

"It's going fine, thank you," she replied slowly. "Mr. Stone, are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"No, I was just... you know, checking in. Something I do with um, the junior associates from time to time."

"Okay…" He could tell she didn't believe him.

"What are you working on?" he asked as casually as he could. He took a seat.

Maggie didn't relax and was perched on the edge of her chair. She was momentarily perturbed, as if she was being tested. "Mr. Posner has a few of us researching contract law for his automotive case."

Eli nodded, lost for words again.

"If you don't need my help on anything, I was wondering if I could run something by you?" Maggie said earnestly. "It's something I've been working on in my spare time – collecting precedent, scientific studies. It hasn't interfered with my work, I promise."

He nodded for her to go on.

"Oscar and Blanca Ramirez v. Gro Plus. The case was left on my desk along with a bunch of other pro bono requests. I know I was supposed to return them with a rejection letter, but this is one we can win." She smiled, hoping her enthusiasm might move him.

Eli's words were out of his mouth before he considered the implications. "We don't win, but they get to go and try to find her son."

"Sir?" she asked, puzzled.

"Don't call me sir. It's Eli."

"What do you mean 'we don't win'?" Maggie's frown deepened. "I think you must have this confused with another case. Oscar and Blanca don't have children, that's the point. The chemical Gro Plus forces them to use has made her sterile – that's why they're suing. I really think we can prove a causal effect..."

Eli looked down. The last thing he needed was Maggie thinking he was crazy too. "You know what, never mind. I'm sorry I dragged you in here. You should go back to work."

Maggie stayed where she was, looking confused. Eli had to motion for her to get up before she got to her feet.

"I've collected all the paperwork. If maybe you had a spare half hour..." she said hopefully.

His response was non-committal which disappointed her, but she didn't linger. Eli felt bad that he'd mentioned anything at all, but knowing what would happen to the Ramirez couple made it hard to keep silent. He wondered if maybe it was worth sounding a little crazy if it meant saving them from a court case they would ultimately lose.

Maggie's hand was on the doorknob before he called her name. She turned, looking no less uncertain than she had when she came in.

"Yes, sir?"

"Oscar and Blanca Ramirez. The complaint against Gro Plus is a loser. You'll get your day in court some other time."

"How do you know it's a loser? If I could just show you the file..."

He pressed on, ignoring the look of protest on her face. "Tell them to contact the Immigration Department about their citizenship. Their notario was a fraud... I mean, in case he was."

"How do you know this?" she asked. Her frown was back. "This isn't some sort of hazing ritual, is it?"

"No..." Eli let out a breath. "I've seen this before… this sort of case before."

He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner while Maggie pondered his words. There was no use mentioning the other more important part of the Ramirez case. Eli decided he would send the couple an anonymous letter later about where they could start searching for Blanca's son. Maggie never had to know.

She stared at him then finally nodded slightly. "Thank you, sir."

"Maggie," he said, stopping her again. "It's Eli."

"Eli." She smiled faintly and left.

He sat back in his chair, his eyes glazing over as he surrendered to his thoughts once more. Eli realized he felt even more alone having seen Maggie. She wasn't a magic elixir that could transport him back. He couldn't even confide in her. He wasn't prepared for how his world felt without Maggie as a friend. But now he knew.

0 0 0 0

He emerged from his office a couple of hours later to drop off some completed documents for Patti. Despite his headache and distracting ponderings, Eli thought he was catching up on his work quite well until she perfunctorily handed him back an even larger pile of folders that needed his attention. His shoulders sagged at the sight of them. Eli was tired. He knew the concussion he'd suffered probably had a lot to do with it, but he mostly felt exhausted from the sheer effort it was taking to keep himself together.

"Are you feeling okay, Eli?" Patti asked, actual concern in her voice.

"I'm fine, Patti."

"Maybe you should take it easy your first day back. Go home early."

Eli smirked at her. "I thought I wasn't allowed to take a lunch break until I was all caught up."

"Well, I suppose I could reschedule a couple more meetings. Just this once," Patti said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Honestly, Patti, I'm okay..." Eli glanced up and spotted Jordan bidding some clients farewell near the elevators. He quickly turned his back on the managing partner before Jordan saw him. He wasn't sure if Taylor had told him everything yet, and he really didn't want to find out.

"You know, maybe it is a good idea if I go home," he said, lowering his voice though Jordan was too far away to hear him. "Head's still a bit sore."

"Do you need a ride?"

Eli grimaced – Patti's voice sounded much louder than usual, potentially drawing unwanted attention. "It's fine, I'll take a cab."

He handed back the files and, after a swift glance in Jordan's direction, he slipped back inside his office to collect his briefcase. Eli used the cover of his colleagues to cross the lobby. Jordan's attention was now focused on one of the partners, but Eli wasn't taking any chances. The elevator seemed to take an interminable time, then when the doors opened he had to wait while a stream of people exited. Eli shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other until the last of them were out, before ducking inside the elevator and punching the button for the ground floor. The doors were almost shut when a hand slapped between them, forcing them to reopen. Eli looked up to see an impassive Jordan staring at him.

"Mr. Stone. Leaving so soon?" he said.

"Yes, Jor– um, Mr. Wethersby, sir. I'm still feeling a little..." Eli twisted his hand near his head, trying to think of a suitable descriptor, then gave up and smiled apologetically instead.

"A shame. I hope you feel better."

"Thank you, sir." Eli surreptitiously pressed the ground button again, but Jordan did not release the elevator doors.

"A moment of your time before you do," he said

Eli winced.

"Do you recall what I told you when you started dating my daughter?"

"That if I ever hurt her you'd hunt me down and… you know, sir, I think I repressed that next part." Eli laughed soundlessly.

Jordan leaned inside the elevator, his voice even but his stare deadly. "Consider the hunt to be on, Mr. Stone."

Eli gulped as Jordan stepped back and the elevator doors closed smoothly. At least that answered the question of whether Taylor had spoken to her father yet. Eli didn't know how his day could get any worse.

0 0 0 0

He was thankful to be back in his own apartment after staying at Nate's. He noticed how little had changed from the apartment he knew now – saw how little he'd let Taylor into his life when it came to their living space. He punched a button on his answering machine to discover more than a dozen messages. He skipped through them quickly, only listening in full to one from St. Vincent's trying to schedule a follow up visit with Dr. Fields. Eli decided to worry about that later.

He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, thinking to rest for a moment – hoping it would help clear his head. When he heard a knock on his door he blinked awake, and was surprised to discover that it was dark out and he must have slept for hours. Eli struggled to his feet when the heavy knocking continued, calling out grouchily that he was coming. His limbs weren't cooperating fully and his eyes were bleary. The last thing he wanted or needed was to find Nate on his doorstep.

"You're checking up on me already?" he said ungraciously.

"I knew you'd forget," Nate replied with a shake of his head. "It's game night."

"It is?" He stood back as his brother barged in. Eli scratched his head then figured it was best to play along for now, as if he knew what game night was. "Already?"

Nate dumped a bag of groceries in the kitchen and began unpacking them. "You feeling up to it? How did it go today?"

"Okay, I guess. I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

"Did you talk to Taylor?"

Eli's spirits sank at the remembrance. "Yeah."

"And?"

"I guess I've got a lot to catch up on there, too."

Nate shook his head again, grinning. "You'd better. I can't believe she dated you in the first place."

Eli took the rib good naturedly. He watched as Nate deposited a six pack of beer in the fridge and emptied out a packet of chips into a bowl.

"I knew you'd forget to cater, as usual," he said.

"Sorry."

Nate heard the half-hearted reply and appraised him with a concerned look. "Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"Game night? Sure, why not." Eli forced himself to smile.

"Good, because you know how much this means to him."

Eli barely had a moment to realize who he meant when there was another knock and their father opened the door that had been left unlocked.

"Game night!" he bellowed happily. "It's that time of the week again, boys."

Nate was already turning on the TV and selecting a recording on Eli's DVR. Eli found himself gazing at his father again. Aaron had also brought food and was pulling out plates in the kitchen. Eli instinctively gravitated towards him, watching him curiously. Rarely had he seen his father so lucid when he was excited or happy. That was usually when he was in an almost manic state during a vision. He also wasn't used to his appearance, and couldn't help but stare. He managed to look away before his father caught him.

"You okay, son?" Aaron asked as he served some wings.

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."

"Good. I know you've had a strange few days."

"Yeah." Eli wished he knew the half of it.

"Something familiar is good then. Game night!" Aaron draped an arm around Eli's shoulder and led him to the couch where they took a seat beside Nate.

Game night, as it turned out, wasn't baseball or basketball or even out of season football. It was cricket – Twenty20 cricket, as Aaron explained. Eli sat feeling bewildered while Nate fast-forwarded through some pre-game commentary until the action began. He had no idea what was going on and had to cover his ignorance as both Nate and Aaron were immediately absorbed in the game.

He tried to follow it, to show excitement when one of the players hit the ball into the stands (something called a 'six', apparently), and commiserate when one was given out (through a bizarre number of different ways it could happen). In the end he settled for surreptitiously watching his father and brother and enjoying the fact that they were having a good time. Eli even managed to swallow his uneasiness when Nate handed Aaron a beer, which he proceeded to nurse for over an hour, rather than downing it quickly and moving onto countless more.

Everything was so... normal. It was the only way Eli could describe it. When Nate got a call on his cell which he ignored when he saw the caller ID, their father proceeded to inquire about his eldest son's love life. He mentioned that it wouldn't hurt for him to settle down, rather than avoiding his latest conquest when she called.

"Oh, I'm saving myself for Beth," Nate said dryly, giving Eli a wink.

"Ha ha," Eli replied. Only he knew that since Beth settled her case with Beutel she probably had no desire to talk to him. And there wouldn't be an engagement party for Nate and Beth to meet at anyway, now he had broken up with Taylor.

A few hours later when the cricket match came to a tie-breaking finish, Aaron announced that the next game night would be the World's Strongest Man mini-marathon at his house. Eli wondered how long these evenings had been going on. From the indulgent way Nate agreed it made him think they had been their father's idea – a way to keep in touch with his sons.

Eli didn't mind, at least while he was stuck where he was. He wasn't about to give up trying to get back, but for now he could tolerate time with his father. He could pretend it was real.

Eli hugged his dad goodbye and almost didn't let go.

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 4 [Eli Stone]

Wed, 14 Jan 2009 11:08:09 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

Eli recuperated at Nate's for a couple of days, after which his brother had to go back to work. Their parents offered to take over but Eli decided that he needed to be at work, too. Nate took some convincing, but after Eli had stopped talking about the aneurysm and everything else from his other life, he agreed he could go into the office for a few hours. Eli was under strict instructions to go home if these errant thoughts returned.

He knew Nate was only looking out for him, but Eli was relieved that he was able to go back to work. He needed to be around familiar things and people if he was going to discover how he could put things right. Of that he was sure.

He paused when he saw the Wethersby, Posner and Klein sign when he entered the law firm. Even after such a relatively short time since the inception of the new firm, Eli felt strange seeing the old partners' names. When he stepped out of the elevator the office was bustling with lawyers, paralegals and assistants. He wasn't used to seeing so many people anymore, either.

Instinctively he headed for the law library, greeting staff along the way, then had to remind himself that he still had an office. It was little details like that he was struggling to recall – having to put himself back two years before his life changed so dramatically with the discovery of his aneurysm. Eli turned sheepishly and made his way to his office instead. Patti was already at her desk but she got up quickly when she saw him.

"Oh Eli, are you alright?" Patti looked concerned but she didn't go so far as to give him a hug. It wasn't Christmas yet after all. "Should you even be back at work yet? Your brother said you had a bad concussion."

"I'm fine, Patti. Don't worry about it," Eli said.

"Good," she replied, her voice regaining its usual mix of sass and disdain. "There are messages piled up all over your desk and I've had to reschedule all your meetings so forget about taking a lunch break until you're caught up. Jordan's still waiting for your notes on the Spencer depositions and needs you to take over the Torres case that starts next week. And you're late for the morning briefing."

She proceeded to dump a thick wad of files into Eli's arms.

"Do you think I could have a cup of coffee?" he asked, already feeling tired.

"Are your arms painted on?" Patti replied before taking a seat at her desk. She pressed a finger to her earpiece. "Eli Stone's office."

Eli sighed. At least some things hadn't changed.

0 0 0 0

A few minutes later he sat in the WPK conference room and let his eyes wander over the familiar faces of his old colleagues. So few had stayed with Jordan and Eli's firm that he couldn't help but feel a little disgruntled as he looked at them now. He caught himself glaring at one or two in particular who had disappointed him with their defection, then had to cover it when he realized Matt Dowd was staring at him from the next seat with a bemused look on his face.

Thanks to his absence from the office for a few days Eli wasn't called upon to provide a summary of his current case load. In fact if he didn't know better Eli could have sworn Jordan was avoiding looking at him at all. He grimaced when he realized what Taylor must have told her father. Jordan, for all his stoicism and dislike of emotional interactions, was still fiercely protective of his only daughter and Eli knew he was in for a rough patch with the managing partner. His friend. Although, he reminded himself, Jordan wasn't his friend yet, not really. Wethersby, Stone and Associates didn't exist here.

He decided to avoid the confrontation for as long as possible and moved quickly out of the conference room after the meeting was over, ducking between a couple of senior associates before Jordan could turn his piercing gaze on him. He headed down the stairs to his office, intent on burying himself in work for now. At least that was easy to deal with. Getting himself back to where he was supposed to be was another matter entirely.

His hopes for a peaceful morning where shattered, however, when he arrived to find Taylor sitting in his office. Patti glared at him, annoyed that he hadn't given her any advance warning that she was coming, but Eli couldn't deal with her mood at the same time. He closed his door quietly behind him.

Taylor looked up, obviously trying to remain cool and composed. Eli felt a wave of guilt again that he had blurted out the demise of their relationship so abruptly and in front of his family. He knew she would have been mortified, given how closely she guarded her privacy.

"Hi, Taylor," he said gently.

"I take it you're feeling better," she replied politely, her voice a little clipped.

"Head doesn't hurt anymore." He didn't bother to add that was the least of his problems. He walked over and took a seat beside her.

"I know you're probably busy, but I thought it best if we talked face to face rather than over the phone. Not that you called."

"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say."

"How about it was all a big misunderstanding and you didn't just break up with me for no reason?"

"There's a reason, Taylor..."

"Of course. You think I'm having an affair with Matt Dowd," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"No, I don't. I know you're not. But you will... What I mean is, in a few months time..."

Taylor stiffened. "Stop. Don't tell me what I'm going to do, Eli. That I'll be better off. Just be honest and tell me you don't want to marry me and be done with it."

"Taylor..."

"I don't understand. I thought we were happy. But you take a knock to the head and suddenly everything between us is over?"

Eli wanted to explain, to make her understand, but professing that he knew her future was not going to help convince Nate and everyone else that he wasn't delusional. It wasn't going to help him work out how to make things right again.

"I'm sorry," he said again. It came out more weakly than he intended.

Taylor got up swiftly before emotion got the better of her. "So am I. For trusting you. For letting myself love you."

"Taylor, wait." Eli grabbed her hand and stood up as well. He laid his other hand on her shoulder and patted it tentatively. His awkwardness just seemed to hurt her more.

"I'll organize to have my things collected from the apartment," she stated dully.

"You don't have to... You don't have to leave." He saw the glimmer of hope in her eyes before adding, "I can stay with Nate for a while."

Taylor blinked away the sting in her eyes, her expression hardening. "It's your place, Eli, not mine. I was only ever a visitor. In your life as well, apparently."

Eli opened his mouth to respond when there was a knock on his door and Matt poked his head in.

"Stone? Oh, sorry. I didn't know you had company," he said when he saw Taylor. But rather than leave he took a step inside with a widening grin. "It's bad enough you're marrying the boss's daughter, now you have to rub our noses in it by having her come visit you at the office? Not that it isn't good to see you as always, Taylor."

"We're not getting married," Taylor said in a low voice, her eyes not leaving Eli's.

"No?" Matt brightened at the unexpected announcement. "Well, I always said you had better sense than to end up with Stone."

Taylor threw him a distasteful glance, then looked back at Eli. "This guy?" she said derisively. "I'd rather stick a hot poker in my eye. Goodbye, Eli."

Matt didn't move from the doorway so she had to squeeze past him, which caused her to glare at him even harder. He smiled to himself when she was gone.

"Nice going, buddy," Matt said. "I'm sure this is going to do wonders for your career progression. But, hey, anytime you want to piss Jordan off is fine with me."

"What do you want, Matt?" Eli said with a sigh.

"Nothing much, just wanted to stop by and let you know that while you were off nursing your headache I settled the Beutel matter."

Eli's blood ran cold. He had forgotten all about it, and the timing. "What?"

"Keller changed her mind and accepted the $90,000 we offered. Non disclosure agreement signed, sealed and delivered."

Eli sank into a seat, lost for words.

"Well, don't bother to thank me," Matt said.

"She settled?"

"What else was she going to do? It's a gift. Beutel only agreed to pay her off to avoid the publicity of a trial. And we wouldn't have even had to go to 90 if you hadn't opened your fat mouth. We could've gotten her for 60, no problem."

"What about the preservative?"

Matt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The preservative in Mercuritol – is Beutel going to stop using it?" he asked urgently.

"No. I don't know. Why?"

"Because that was the point of this case…" Eli dropped his head into his hands and swore under his breath.

"Please, the point of this case was money. Beth Keller got it, end of story." Matt turned to go. "You're welcome, by the way."

Eli didn't look up until Matt shut the door behind him. He didn't know if he should call Beth, having no idea what he would say to her. His helping her with the Beutel matter not only got the company to stop using the potentially harmful preservative in their vaccine, it was also why they rekindled their friendship and she got to know Nate. But already everything was different. He hadn't won Beth's case.

Eli slumped further in his seat, feeling more lost than before. Without the visions he didn't know how he was supposed to do his job properly. There were people who needed help but he'd always been given some kind of sign that helped him work out who they were. Eli wasn't a hotshot litigator anymore. He certainly didn't want to live out his life stuck where he'd been before the aneurysm.

He had to get back, and quickly, before he destroyed anything else.

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 3 [Eli Stone]

Sat, 10 Jan 2009 10:58:16 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

Eli left the hospital that afternoon but instead of going home Nate took him to his apartment. It was the one stipulation Dr. Fields had made, though Nate was still reluctant to have him signed out to his care. He thought Eli should remain hospitalized until his memory returned or he accepted that it was 2006 and everything he had described hadn't already happened and wouldn't happen in the future.

Their mother, of course, wanted Eli to stay at the family home, but he'd been reluctant. He was still unsure how to handle the fact that his father was alive – no aneurysm, no alcoholism. It was a dream come true but it still didn't sit right, not when Eli knew what really happened. The need to be under medical supervision, then, was a useful excuse. It also allowed him to stay away from his place where Taylor was still smarting over his revelations about their future. There was nothing he could say to make her feel better about it yet, so he decided a little distance was best.

Eli lay on Nate's couch staring up at the ceiling. He'd refused the bed, knowing Nate needed sleep more than he did. His brother had stayed awake all night at the hospital and was struggling to keep his eyes open. Eli lied and said he wanted to take a nap too, and pretended to fall asleep so Nate could do the same. His brother was snoring quietly in the bedroom as Eli contemplated what he was going to do.

He had to be rational about everything, he decided. He'd been stuck in this strange sort of limbo before, after the surgery to remove the aneurysm when he'd been in a coma for three days. Perhaps it had happened again – maybe the bleeding was caused by some complication with his condition and he was comatose. Eli wondered how long it would go on. Last time all he had to do was come to the realization that he was, in fact, having a sort of vision. Once he understood it, and after talking to Vision Dr. Chen, he'd been able to pull himself out. Somehow. Eli couldn't quite remember how he'd done it.

He tried squeezing his eyes shut, holding his breath and counting to ten. Nothing. He tried again, gritting his teeth and focusing every part of himself on the idea of waking up back where he was supposed to be. He blinked his eyes open only to see Nate's ceiling again. With a sigh, Eli sat up. His head was still sore and he reached for some more paracetamol. This was going to take some time.

He got up and wandered around Nate's apartment. It was strange not seeing the pictures of Beth and Ben that he'd put up around the place. It was a bachelor's pad through and through. Eli felt a wave of sympathy for his brother who deserved every happiness. That was why he needed to go back. Eli needed to help reunite Nate and Beth, he decided. It was as worthy a goal as any.

Eli stopped in his tracks when he realized what he should do. It had worked the first time, or at least it had helped. He needed to speak to Frank.

0 0 0 0

Eli caught a cab to Chinatown after swiping money from Nate's wallet. It wasn't his fault his was still at the penthouse. Besides, he figured returning to the future – or the present, depending on how he looked at it – and fixing things between his brother and the woman he loved would be compensation enough.

Dr. Chen's clinic looked just like it had on Eli's first visit. There were no smoothies and other add-on products he was peddling as Eli knew him now. There was faint guzheng music playing when he entered and a waft of incense tickled his nose. But Frank was nowhere to be seen. Eli waited for a minute before ringing the bell on the counter. He grinned when Frank came into the waiting area of the clinic.

"Welcome Dr. Chen's. You have appointment?" Frank asked using his fake accent.

"Do I ever have an appointment?" Eli joked.

"You seen Dr. Chen before?"

Eli's smile faded. Of course, he didn't know him. It threw him off kilter for a moment before he recovered his composure.

"I need to talk to you. I need your help."

"Dr. Chen help. You have bad stomach? Bad head? Problem wit'…" Frank whistled suggestively and pointed at Eli's groin.

"What? No."

"Why you need acupuncture?"

"I don't need it, or at least not right away. We need to talk first. And you can drop the accent, Frank."

"What you talk about?" Frank looked furtive before advancing on Eli and waving his hands. "You go. Dr. Chen no provide talk."

Eli shuffled backwards then stopped. "Your name is Frank Lebakowski. You grew up on a commune. You majored in philosophy at UC Berkley before studying holistic medicine in China," he stated calmly.

"What, are you a cop?" Frank asked, dropping the accent. "That pot was for medicinal use and the charges were dropped."

"No, my name is Eli Stone. I'm a lawyer and I need your help."

Frank looked at him, intrigued.

0 0 0 0

They sat on his roof and drank a beer while Eli related his story. Frank let him talk without interrupting, even when Eli got to the part about Frank meeting his father and promising to one day help his son.

"So, what do you think?" Eli asked, squinting against the sinking sun.

"I can see why you're having a hard time adjusting," replied Frank.

"What do I do?"

"You're asking me?"

"You helped me before," Eli persisted.

Frank shrugged and grinned wryly. "I don't know what to tell you, dude. I've never worked in a TV repair shop. I've never met your father. By the sounds of it, he's not the man you know anyway. If he doesn't have an aneurysm either and isn't drinking as a result of it, his whole life is different to what you've seen. Everything has changed."

"I know," Eli said, crestfallen. "And if I could keep that part intact and go back to my real life, I wouldn't complain. All I ever wanted was to have a normal dad like everyone else. But this isn't how things are supposed to be. What about all those people I helped because of my visions? What about all the people I'm supposed to help in the future? Nate's relationship with Beth? Jordan's new firm? Taylor and Matt's baby? Maggie…" Eli paused. Maggie was still with Scott, the man who would eventually cheat on her if he wasn't already. "All these lives, Frank. I can't just do nothing."

"What's the plan then?"

"Maybe acupuncture will work. It always has before."

"You say it allows you to revisit your visions? To seek clarity?"

"That's right."

"We can try, but I don't know it will work," said Frank.

"Why not?"

"You don't have an aneurysm anymore, Eli. You're not having visions."

"That you know of," Eli said. His eyes were pleading. "I don't know what else to do. I think we should try."

"Alright, man, whatever you say."

0 0 0 0

Eli took his time returning to Nate's place, taking a cable car instead of a cab. He wanted to avoid the inevitable confrontation with his brother, realizing he hadn't left a note and Nate would probably be worried about him. But he also had to come to terms with the fact that the one glimmer of hope he had – acupuncture – had done nothing. Dr. Chen had stuck the needle into his forehead and he'd waited for the familiar few seconds of disorientation. But nothing had happened. No clarity, no answers. Just a vague feeling of well-being. Eli's shoulders slumped further as he scuffed his feet along the sidewalk.

When he did slip back into Nate's apartment, his brother was on the phone. When he saw Eli he looked relieved, then angry.

"Hang on, he's back. He looks okay… Yeah… Yeah, I'll let you know, Dad." Nate disconnected the call. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I just went for a walk."

"It's almost dark out. I thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere." Nate manhandled him over to the couch and checked him over.

"I'm fine, Nate."

"Oh yeah? What year is it?"

Eli gave him a look.

Nate sighed. "You can't just wander off, Eli. You're supposed to be under medical supervision."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just had to check something."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you still… Do you still think you're from the future?" Nate asked hesitantly.

"I don't think I'm from the future, Nate. I'm telling you, I did hit my head on the planter but it was because I have an aneurysm and you diagnosed it…"

"For the tenth time, you don't have an aneurysm, Eli! We know what we're looking for. Your MRI is totally clear." He got up, swiping his hand over his mouth. "You shouldn't have been released from the hospital. I'm going to call my boss and get him to lean on Fields to admit you for evaluation."

"I'm not crazy, Nate."

"You need help, little brother," he said insistently. "Let me help you."

"Then let me stay here. I don't need to go back to hospital." Eli spoke firmly and held Nate's gaze steadily.

Nate thought about it for a long moment before finally agreeing. "For now. But if these delusions don't stop, you agree to go back."

"Deal."

Eli sat back against the couch. He tried to hide his frown but he needed to concentrate on what he was going to do. Acupuncture had been a dead end. He didn't know what else to try.

"So listen," Nate went on, placated, "you'd better give Taylor a call. She's worried about you."

"You mean she's pissed at me," Eli countered darkly.

"Wouldn't you be if your fiancée woke up one day and told you that you'd broken up?" Nate's eyes narrowed as realization hit. "This isn't an elaborate attempt to get out of marrying her, is it?"

"No."

"Good, because seriously? You're not going to do any better than Taylor."

"Taylor's great, but I know it won't work out. It wasn't fair to put her through –" He started to gesture towards his head because he couldn't use the word aneurysm again without raising Nate's ire. Then he stopped. Nate wouldn't believe him anyway. "Sometimes you just know things aren't meant to be."

Nate wandered into the kitchen. He called over his shoulder, "Well, you probably could have found a better way to tell her. I'm just saying."

Eli followed him after a few minutes during which Nate had begun preparing dinner. Eli watched him for a while, mulling things over.

"Nate?" he said eventually. "Is Dad okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is he still an engineer?"

Nate dropped some pasta into boiling water. "Unless he's retired in the last 24 hours he is. Why?"

"He never owned a TV repair shop on Market Street?"

"No. Why would you say that?" Nate chuckled briefly, then gave Eli a sober look. "Forget it, I need to stop asking."

Eli ignored him. "And his health's okay?"

"Apart from a little male pattern baldness – which doesn't bode well for either of us. You in particular," Nate said, glancing at Eli's hair.

"He isn't… an alcoholic?"

Nate's brow furrowed. "No, of course not. Now Mom, on the other hand… Get her around a jug of Sangria and there are consequences. Don't you remember when she and Uncle Gary got hammered at her sixtieth last year? They almost set the kitchen curtains on fire."

Eli grinned in response to Nate's amusement but it quickly faded. He didn't remember because it never happened. He stared off into the distance, lost in thought, until Nate threw a dishcloth at him.

"Why are you so worried about Dad? What's with the whole death fixation?" Nate fixed him with a firm stare. "You could have handled that little announcement better, too."

"I know…I just wasn't expecting to see him," Eli said, dropping his eyes. "I'm not the only one with an aneurysm, Nate. I got it from Dad, along with the visions. He just didn't know how to handle his so he drank instead. It destroyed him."

Nate continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable. When he tried to speak he found he had to clear his throat first.

"Eli, I know you believe that. I don't understand it, but I concede it feels real to you right now."

"It is real," Eli whispered, sounding scared.

Nate pressed his lips together. "Do you trust me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Do you?"

"Of course I do," Eli replied. "You're my brother."

Nate reached out and held Eli's head in his hands, their eyes locking together. "Then trust me when I tell you this is all in your mind. Dad is okay, and so are you. I'm gonna help you through this, Eli. But you need to try. I need you to try."

"Nate…"

"No, I don't want to hear you talk about aneurysms or visions or George Michael. You need to focus on what's real."

Eli's mouth tightened as Nate's intense gaze bore into him. He felt his anger mounting and wanted to push his brother away, but something inside forced him to calm down. He wouldn't get anywhere antagonizing Nate. Eli was concerned he'd really think he was insane and have him committed. Instead he decided that he'd give acquiescence a try. At least on the surface.

"Okay, Nate."

A smile lit up his brother's face and he pulled Eli into a brief hug. He slapped his back firmly.

"Good. Now, are you hungry? Because I am going to turn this bottle of pasta sauce into something vaguely appetizing right before your very eyes."

"Sounds good," Eli said with a forced smile.

If he had to pretend everything was normal, he could do that. Eli knew he didn't have any other choice if he was going to get his real life back.

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 2 [Eli Stone]

Fri, 09 Jan 2009 10:37:40 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

"Is it brain damage?"

"No, Mom."

"Amnesia then?"

"He was just confused."

"You heard how he got the date wrong. 2008? And what about what he said to Taylor? She's distraught, poor thing."

"This can happen with head trauma. We just need to give him some time."

"You said it was just a concussion."

"And Dr. O'Day confirmed it. Why don't you and Dad go home? I'll call you if there's any change."

"We're not going anywhere."

Eli lay still and kept his breathing even as he listened to them talk. His eyes were closed and he resisted the temptation to open them until he had a better understanding of what was going on. His head hurt a little less which was making it easier to think. He concentrated hard, trying to piece together what he remembered about how he ended up in hospital. His mother and brother's conversation did little to clear things up. Nate…

In a flash the sight of Nate's angry, red face filled Eli's mind. He remembered they'd been arguing. He had been apologizing but Nate was enraged. Then suddenly Eli was on his knees and Nate was pressing something to his face. He recalled the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He had been bleeding.

"You're worse than Dad."

Eli's chest tightened. He remembered those words.

"Who wants coffee?"

The pain in his chest became more pronounced when Eli recognized the male voice that wasn't Nate. He tried to will it away, knowing it wasn't true. But he'd seen him, been held by him.

His father was alive.

Eli's eyes snapped open as he gasped. Nate's concerned face immediately came into view.

"Eli? Can you hear me?" He sighed with relief when Eli met his gaze and held it steadily.

"I'll tell the doctor," Linda said and disappeared from the room.

Eli looked to his other side when he felt a warm, dry hand cover his.

"Hey there, son." Aaron smiled gently.

Eli tried to smile in response but felt tears well in his eyes instead. He couldn't be imagining it. His father was there. Not the younger man he'd known in his childhood – the alcoholic who swathed a path of destruction through their lives – he was older, quieter. Eli felt no tremor in his hand, heard no slur in his voice. He was clear-shaven and his eyes were bright and focused.

"Hi, Dad," he whispered. If it was a vision he didn't mind if it kept going for a while.

Aaron stayed by his son's side while Dr. O'Day came in to check Eli over. He performed a few tests on his reflexes and responses and reported to them that physically Eli was showing no ill effects from his concussion.

"You did an MRI?" Eli asked hesitantly. He wondered if the doctor was being discreet in not mentioning it in front of his family.

"Like I said, Eli, your tests were all normal."

"What about the aneurysm?"

O'Day frowned and looked over at Nate who echoed his confusion. "What aneurysm?"

"Ah, my aneurysm. In my head," said Eli.

"Eli, you don't have an aneurysm."

He let out a frustrated breath. "Yes, I do. Check the MRI. It's an inter-cranial aneurysm. It's small but it's there. You need to know what you're looking for."

O'Day looked surprised and a little insulted.

"Eli, you don't have an aneurysm," Nate said, stepping forward. "I even forced the neurology chief to check your MRI for me, just in case. No offence, Mike."

"None taken," the doctor replied but clearly didn't mean it.

"You're wrong," Eli said ominously. "It's why this is happening."

"What's happening?"

"This. All of it." He glanced at each of their faces but they were all looking at him like he was crazy. "This isn't real."

"Okay, I'm going to call for a psych consult," O'Day stated. "Keep an eye on him."

"Why is he saying all this?" Linda asked her eldest son.

"I don't know," Nate admitted in defeat, his eyes not wavering from Eli's.

"Don't you remember?" Eli asked him, needing him to understand. "You were yelling at me. You blamed me for what happened with Beth."

"Eli, I don't know anyone called Beth," Nate stated calmly so as not to agitate him any more than he already was. "You were at home with Taylor when you passed out and hit your head on the planter in your bedroom. Don't you remember?"

Eli frowned. "That was like... two years ago. George Michael was in my room singing 'Faith'."

"Oh my God," his mother murmured under her breath.

"Linda," his father said and she tried to keep her composure.

"Eli, you're not making any sense," Nate went on.

"I will. Just let me explain."

0 0 0 0

They gathered by his bedside when the attending physician from the psychiatry department came to speak with him. By this time Taylor had also arrived and sat beside Eli's mother who had a comforting arm around her. Taylor still looked at Eli with a measure of pain in her red, sleep-deprived eyes, but she was there and he agreed they could all stay during the consultation. Eli had nothing to hide. Maybe if he told them everything he could work out what was happening and what the point of the vision was, if indeed it was a vision.

"You said you saw George Michael, the singer, performing in your bedroom?" Dr Fields prompted. He was an older man, closer to his father's age Eli guessed, and he had an unfazed expression on his face.

Eli concentrated on him rather than the worried looks from everyone else. "That's right."

"Did you talk to him? Did he say anything to you?"

"No. He just sang."

"And do you hear other voices? Other singers?"

"Sometimes."

"And what do these voices tell you?"

Eli shrugged. "What I need to do to help people."

"How do you help them, Eli?"

"Usually in court. I'm a lawyer. Well, a prophet and a lawyer."

"You're a prophet?"

"That's was Chen's word, not mine. I denied it for a long time, but I guess it could be considered an accurate descriptor."

"Who is Chen?"

"Dr. Chen. Frank. Frank Lebakowski, actually. It's a long story. He's my acupuncturist. My guru, if you like."

Dr. Fields made a few more notes on his pad. Nate and Aaron just frowned at one another.

"Tell me more about your aneurysm," Dr. Fields continued.

"I was diagnosed after I saw George Michael for the first time. I guess I fainted and I hit my head." Eli glanced at Nate. "I had an MRI and they didn't find anything. But a few days later I started seeing things. Finding myself in situations that felt real, but weren't really happening." A bit like this, he added silently. "Nate had the scan checked by his neurology chief and he found an aneurysm. Just like the one my father had."

Fields looked over at Aaron. "I'm supposed to be dead," he said by way of explanation.

Eli recounted the attempt to remove the aneurysm and its recurrence, omitting the part about asking God's fiduciary for it back to spare his brother. There was only so much they could accept and he figured that would be pushing it. He did point out that the diagnosis of his aneurysm happened more than a year and a half earlier.

"Which is why you think it's 2008," Fields clarified.

"That's right. Because it is."

"Eli, what goes through your mind when I tell you that it's actually 2006?"

"How about I can predict who wins the next two series of American Idol? And Brangelina have twins."

"I'm serious."

Eli smothered a smile. "Okay, clearly something's going on here. I'm either having a vision or I'm stuck in some kind of weird limbo." He stopped, remembering the taste of blood. "That's it…"

"What is?"

"The fight. I was arguing with Nate. He blamed me for his fiancée breaking up with him because she also has feelings for me – which so wasn't my fault and you owe me an apology," he said, glancing at Nate. "Besides I knew her first and lost my virg–"

Eli clamped his lips together. "Never mind. We were arguing and then my nose was bleeding. Nate called the hospital. I guess maybe the aneurysm ruptured or something. I think I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up here in some kind of time warp."

"That's interesting," Fields murmured and wrote some more.

"What about us, Eli?" Taylor asked quietly, her voice full of hurt.

Eli felt a twist of pain that he was the cause. "I'm sorry, Taylor."

"We're supposed to be getting married."

"I know, but things don't work out. It was mutual, you have to trust me on that. And everything turned out better, for you anyway. You're going to have a baby."

"Right. With some guy called Matt."

Eli smiled kindly. "That's right, Matt Dowd."

Taylor glowered at him, pulling away from Linda. "That creep from your office who tried to hit on me at the Fourth of July party? Right in front of my father, I might add."

"That's him."

"That's it. I can't sit here and listen to this anymore." She got up with a huff. "This is insane."

She stalked out of the room and Linda called after her before following her. Fields watched the interaction but did not comment.

"Let me get this straight," Nate said, looking confused. "I get engaged to some girl you knew in college?"

"Beth," Eli said.

"Right. Beth. But we don't get married because she's secretly in love with you?"

"Well, yeah, but personally I just think it's cold feet. She does love you, and it'll work out in the end. She needs you and so does Ben."

"And Ben is...?"

"Her son."

Nate raised his hands in surprise. "Her son! Of course. I'm going to be a father. Hey, Dad! You're going to be a grandfather."

"Not me, I'm dead, remember?" Aaron said with a small chuckle.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget," Nate replied.

Eli didn't appreciate his sarcastic tone. "I know you don't believe me. I don't suppose I'd believe it myself if I heard it like this. But these things all happened."

"Are you going to say anything?" Nate snapped at Dr. Fields, his anger mounting.

"What would you like me to say?"

"How about you're going to write him a prescription for anti-psychotics?"

"I don't know that drugs are the right course of action here, Dr. Stone," Fields said calmly.

"He's delusional. He thinks he has a brain aneurysm!"

"He's also suffered a concussion and I think a few days rest is warranted before we leap to a psychological disorder as the cause. Eli doesn't appear to be a danger to himself or anyone else."

Fields focused his attention on Eli. "Why do you think you're here?"

Nate let out a huff behind him but Fields ignored it. His eyes were unwavering.

"I don't know," Eli admitted. "But I can usually work it out given some time."

"Okay. But I want you to come back and see me in a day or so. Your brother can provide you with medical supervision in the meantime and perhaps being in a familiar environment will help."

Eli nodded, vaguely hypnotized by the doctor's steady voice and gaze. "Thank you."

"This will all get sorted out, Eli. You've got to have faith."

"That's just what George Michael said," Eli replied with a smile.

Fic: Dream Awake - Pt. 1 [Eli Stone]

Thu, 08 Jan 2009 14:40:19 GMT

Title: Dream Awake
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Eli, Nate, others
Summary: After the fight with his brother, after the nosebleed, Eli wakes up in hospital. He's not prepared for what happens next. Post episode 209

Eli woke in a fog. His thoughts were confused and it was hard to focus. He slipped out of consciousness a few more times, but each time he became aware of himself it was a little easier to concentrate. Eventually he was able to open his eyes. He saw a plain ceiling and the glare of white lights. It hurt to look.

"Where am I?" Eli croaked, his throat dry. His mouth felt like cotton wool.

He heard the movement beside him before Nate's concerned face hovered into view.

"You're at St. Vincent's, Eli. Don't worry, we're taking good care of you," he said, a wash of relief in his voice.

"Ugh, my head."

"That's what happens when you hit it hard, little brother. I thought you would have remembered that from childhood."

"What?"

"You hit it on the planter, don't you remember?"

"Not really, it's all fuzzy."

"Don't worry about it, it's only a mild concussion. Taylor's just gone to get some coffee, she'll be back in a minute."

Eli frowned and closed his eyes again. He may have even drifted off to sleep but when he opened them it felt like only a few seconds had passed. He felt more lucid.

"Why is Taylor here?" he asked. His voice was working better, too.

"She was worried about you," Nate replied.

"Why isn't she at work? What time is it?"

"It's the middle of the night. You've been out of it for a few hours."

"She shouldn't be drinking coffee," Eli murmured, trying not to focus on the throbbing ache in his head. "It isn't good for the baby."

"What?" Nate spluttered.

Eli pressed his fingers against either side of his forehead and shut his eyes once more but Nate shook his arm insistently.

"Eli, what are you talking about? Taylor's pregnant?"

"You didn't notice?"

"Ah, no. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"Well, gee, maybe because I'm your brother."

"Okay. Sorry, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Nate, I'd be happy for you to berate me some more but can I have some aspirin first? Seriously, my head is killing me."

Nate shook his head, words failing him. "I'll get something. But this conversation isn't over."

Eli turned his head away from the overhead light when Nate left his side. He wanted to sleep again but barely had a moment to consider it before he felt a hand on his arm. He found Taylor sitting beside him looking pensive. When she saw he was awake she smiled.

"Hey, there you are," she said. "You had me scared, you know that? Are you okay?"

He nodded warily. "Are you? Why are you here in the middle of the night?"

"Where else would I be?"

"I don't know, at home."

"Of course I'm going to be here for you," she replied. "The doctor said you'll be fine."

She brushed her hand over his forehead before she saw the confusion in his eyes.

"Eli, what is it?"

"Where's Matt?"

Taylor blinked. "Who?"

Nate walked back into the room and Eli noticed for the first time that he was wearing a medical coat. He wondered why, when Nate and St. Vincent's Hospital had parted company some months ago.

"The nurse is bringing in some paracetamol for your head," he said. "And you're gonna need it. I can't believe you guys didn't tell me."

"Tell you what?" Taylor asked, turning her head towards him. Her hand was still on Eli's arm.

"I'm going to be an uncle!"

Taylor snorted. "What are you talking about?"

"Eli said you were pregnant," Nate said. Now he was the confused one.

"I am?" Taylor rounded on Eli. "Really."

"You can't exactly hide it, Taylor," Eli said. He glanced down at her belly but his brow puckered when he didn't see the small bump that she had recently begun to carry.

"Is this some kind of joke? Because it's not funny." She glared first at Eli then at Nate. "What's wrong with him?"

"It must be the concussion," Nate surmised quietly but she could tell he was concerned.

"Dr. Stone?" A nurse appeared at the door and handed over a small paper cup with a couple of pills in it.

"Thanks, Marie." Nate took the cup but he didn't give the paracetamol to Eli straight away.

"Oh God, is this just a vision?" Eli said, mostly to himself. He didn't see the look pass between Taylor and his brother. "Just don't start singing because, seriously, I'm not in the mood."

"Nate, what the hell?" Taylor said with rising panic.

"Eli?" Nate tried to get his attention

"Okay, fine." Eli looked up at the ceiling, squinting against the fluorescent lights. "Hurry up and finish. Send me whatever message you need to. Whose relationship can I wreck next? Or am I supposed to get some kind of clue for a case?

"Eli, who are you talking to?"

"Shh, you don't need to be interactive, Vision Nate," Eli said with a wave of his hand. He pulled back his covers and dropped his legs over the side of the bed before they could stop him.

"Get back into bed. You have a concussion," Nate ordered firmly.

"Eli, do what he says," Taylor said.

"You guys, I'm fine. You're fine. We're all fine. This will be over soon." Eli stepped around the side of the bed towards Nate but opted for the window instead. He felt a little unsure on his feet which he wasn't expecting.

"Okay, that's enough." Nate caught him by the arm. "You're talking gibberish."

"You're talking gibberish," Eli repeated then laughed at the silliness of the word. He felt light-headed which added to his amusement. He looked up as someone else entered the room. "Mom! Mom's here!"

"There you are. Why didn't you call us sooner, Nate? I had to threaten to make a call to Trevor Snyder because they weren't going to let us in." Their mother bustled forward and made a sympathetic sound as she laid a gentle hand on Eli's cheek. "What have you done to yourself, Eli?"

"It's not serious, Mom," said Nate when Eli only grinned.

"He's pale as a sheet," she tutted, a fact which Nate saw too. The color had drained rapidly from Eli's face as he stared at the door. Then his knees buckled and Nate had to catch him before he hit the floor.

"Dad?" Eli yelped, his eyes wide.

Aaron Stone walked into the room and pulled a cap from his head. Eli stared in shock at him, taking in his grey hair and face more lined than in any vision he'd had.

"Hey son, are you alright?"

Eli was breathing heavily and Nate's grip on his arm tightened.

"Mom, press the call button," Nate instructed quickly. "Come on, Eli, let's get you back to bed."

"No, no, wait," Eli gasped, his eyes still fixed on his father. He reached out a shaking hand to him. "Dad?"

Without warning he pulled himself out of Nate's grasp and almost fell into his father's arms. Eli held on as tightly as he could and felt his father shuffle back from his weight. There was a soft chuckle in response. He was real.

"It's okay, son. You're okay," he soothed, patting his back. But he frowned after a moment when he felt his shirt grow wet. He looked down and saw that Eli was weeping. "He is alright, isn't he?"

Nate insisted he lay down again but had to extract him from Aaron's embrace first. Eli was trying to catch his breath as he stopped the tears from falling and was suddenly compliant. Nate maneuvered him into bed with well practiced movements.

"Oh, Eli," Linda Stone said, immediately at his side and grasping his hand. "Nate, what is it?"

"It's just a concussion, Mom. Don't worry." But Nate didn't believe his own words. He didn't like the way Eli was still staring at their father in disbelief. A different nurse came into the room, answering the call for assistance, and Nate looked up at her sharply. "Call Dr. O'Day and tell him I need him. Now."

"Yes, Doctor."

"This isn't happening," Eli said through ragged breaths. "What is going on?"

"Eli, what is it?" Aaron said, stepping forward.

Eli looked from one startled family member to the other. Taylor stood in the background, her hand over her mouth.

"You're dead!" he stated, when his gaze fell on his father once more. "You're not really here."

"I'm not dead, son," Aaron replied calmly, ignoring the sharp gasp from his wife. He sat on the edge of Eli's bed. "Look at me. I'm right here."

"No," Eli moaned. He pressed his eyes shut. "I don't understand."

"Nathan, do something," Linda cried.

Nate forced each of Eli's eyes open with the pad of his thumb. He pulled a light from his pocket and checked his pupils.

"Do you know your name?" he commanded, his voice all business.

"Of course I do," Eli said, pushing his hand away and shielding his eyes from the harsh light.

"Tell me."

"Eli Stone."

"And who am I?"

"My brother Nathan."

"And her?"

"My mother."

"And me, Eli?" Aaron said gently before Nate could.

Eli blinked, his cheeks still wet. "My father," he whispered.

Nate motioned Taylor forward.

"Eli?" she prompted.

"Taylor. My... my ex-fiancée."

Taylor's mouth fell open.

"What? What happened?" Linda asked, even more alarmed. "Taylor?"

But she received no reply. Taylor shook her head, looking scared and betrayed, and was running from the room. She almost crashed in the doctor who was entering.

"What's going on, Nate?" he asked, quickly assessing the tension in the room.

"He's altered, complaining of a headache," Nate replied, stepping back to allow O'Day some room. He pulled his father up, too. "He recognizes us but he hasn't been making much sense, talking about things that haven't happened. Changes to relationships and other… stuff."

Nate didn't want to repeat the part about their father being supposedly dead. The doctor just nodded and focused on his patient.

"Hi Eli, I'm Dr. O'Day. Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

Eli took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He had to be rational about what was happening, even if it didn't make sense. Sometimes that's how visions went. He tried to ignore the fact that this wasn't feeling like a vision anymore. They usually felt pretty real, but this was something else entirely.

"Apart from a headache, I'm fine," he said. "I'm not altered. It's not me... I'd just need to know what's going on."

"We'll find that out, okay? Follow my finger with your eyes." The doctor performed a few quick tests on his pupil reaction. "Can you tell me today's date?"

"It's October…something." Eli struggled to remember the day.

"That's okay. What about the year?"

"2008."

There was a hiss from Nate. Linda held out her hand for her husband and held on tight. The doctor glanced back at Nate.

"The CT showed no skull fracture or bleeding but we'll send him for an MRI just in case." O'Day placed a hand on his patient's shoulder. "Eli, we're going to take you upstairs. You hang tight for a minute."

O'Day spoke quietly to Nate away from the bed so Eli couldn't hear them. He looked over at his parents. His mother's eyes were full of tears.

"Mom?" he asked in a scared voice she hadn't heard from him since he was a boy.

"It's alright, baby. You're going to be fine."

Eli stared at his father again who nodded in support of his wife's assertion.

"You got old, Dad," Eli said with a sad smile, then his vision grew black.

Fic: The Price You Pay [Eli Stone]

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 11:54:44 GMT

Title: The Price You Pay
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Nate, Beth
Summary: Picking up where *expletive* episode 209 left off, Nate and Beth wait to hear Eli's prognosis.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3