She doesn't know why she's surprised that he managed to con a jury. He's conned governors, senators, intellectuals and law officials without breaking a sweat. Twelve average citizens who weren't savvy enough to wiggle their way out of jury duty shouldn't even be a challenge for the great Patrick Jane. But somehow, naively, she thought this would be different - needed this to be different. Because if justice is just a game that he can play, then when does that mean for her? What does that do to the very thing she builds her life around - the thing she will give her life to protect?
I know, right? I mean, the absolute shit he puts her though and the way he makes her put herself, her career and her morals on the line is just astounding.
Elizabeth's not exactly sure when John's hand landed on her thigh, but she's certainly aware it's there now. Heat spreads from the point of contact and creeps up her body, warming cheeks already reddened from the alcohol. For his part, he seems completely oblivious - like it's perfectly natural for him to touch her so intimately.
She stumbles, and he's there to catch her. (And it would be a metaphor, except, with him, it's not.) When he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth she thinks about turning, thinks about more, and quickly steps away.
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She wonders if maybe it is.
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However, if it was pointed out to him, he'd be so embarrassed.
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