Tate's eyes kept wandering over to the living room, more precisely to the peaceful picture Bo and the new guy she had picked up on the road made. He for sure didn't know what to make of Patrick Jane, even though the guy had been with them for a few weeks now. A very calm few weeks, he had noted with an irritated huff.
Bo and Patrick were in sync in a way that made Tate jealous. He never won an argument anymore because before Bo can even suggest changing their course, Jane had tricked him into thinking it was his idea. The last few times before they had even exchanged a glance he surrendered and let them do what they wanted because he had decided Jane had some sort of mind control power anyway. There was no way the guy was... ordinary.
Bo wanted to help people and Jane made it happen.
Just like that, like it was easy moulding the world to whatever shape you wanted. While Tate had weathered in all the shit the universe had thrown at him it felt for all the world like Jane had grabbed his arm and yanked him into a different direction, a different street and told him he could walk in the sunshine for once. He was petrified because they were starting to rely on the self defined mentalist for pretty much everything now.
He didn't trust well. He had been forced to rely on Winter and while Jane allowed them to get out from under his watch, Winter had been a known quantity and Tate still had no idea why Jane had ditched his life to come and help them. More than that he had staged their deaths meaning he had no life to return to even if he wanted.
It had come about when Tate had lost Bo to the police and Winter had been unable to do anything about it. Even with Tate losing his shit and being close to tearing the place apart, there had been nothing to be done. Then, he had gotten a phone call and a voice he now knew always sounded so sweet told him he had Bo and if he wanted her alive to come to a warehouse alone.
He had told Winter of course. Winter had followed him and had slipped inside to watch from behind the door. Winter had seen as Bo rushed into Tate's arms, only for Tate to have been shot down before she had gotten to him. Seen as she had screamed and set fire to the building only to be shot through the heart herself. The fire had spread so quickly Winter had barely gotten out himself.
Patrick knew how to put on a show, Tate gave him that. He had no idea how Jane kept getting them into places, nice places too. Jane always knew which buttons to press with people and they always, always gave him what he wanted. Tate was terrified Jane wanted to steal his daughter. He was even more scared that it might even be better for her.
He glanced at the living room again. Jane was teaching Bo poker only they both kept using their powers to cheat so it was a really quick version of the game. Tate watched Bo look as happy as when he first met her. Bo pulled on Jane's cards with her mind and set them dancing in the air much to Jane's faux disgruntlement.
The jealousy started to grate until he was already across the room before he registered his decision. “Alright, bed.” He'd already let her stay up later than usual so it wasn't an unreasonable thing to say but both looked at him like they could see right through him. Bo with child like superiority and Jane with a smirk. After Tate just glared, Bo grumbled as she went to her room. Tate didn't look at Jane as he went to tuck her in.
He turned away when Bo went to her dresser.
“You could be nicer to him, y'know.” Bo told him.
“No, I really can't.” Tate frowned. He could feel the laser stare aimed at the back of his head. She reminded him so much of her mom sometimes. “He'll turn on us or he'll leave. It's what people do. It's what you'll do once you're old enough.” He sighed to his hands. He turned around as he got wrapped in a plaid hug.
“Tate...” She chastised, whined really. “He's all alone too. He just wants his family back but he can't .” She looked up at him with her Bambi eyes.
“Well he can't have you.” Tate protested.
Bo grinned at him. “Don't be silly. He likes you more than me. I can tell.”
Tate flushed. Bo laughed and ran to bounce on her bed. “Very funny.” He said as he got her to lie still and pulled the covers up. She'd probably sensed the rising attraction he felt for Patrick with her powers. He was just glad it wasn't lust he was feeling because he would have hated himself to the core for scarring his daughter like that. But Patrick, with a smile so genuine despite the sadness of his eyes, made him feel included and important while he took control of the reins that Tate never realised he'd given willingly until the blood flowed back into his hands that were complaining about his long standing death grip.
It scared him, how good the mentalist was at playing him. At playing everybody. Jane could make everybody fall in love with him, hate him or fear him. In the end Tate was afraid he would go back for Patrick even if the guy brought trouble down on their heads.
“Go to sleep.” He ordered. Bo just twinkled at him from under the duvet. He went back the kitchen where of course Jane was making tea. He only had to sit down for Jane to sit across from him. Tate avoided the blonde man's stare.
They were both silent for several long moments, each waiting each other out. Tate knew he was going to lose, just like he always lost but he kept his head down until he couldn't anymore. He glanced at Patrick, flushing at the pleased smile Jane had adopted while watching him. The mentalist set his drink down with a click and met his gaze evenly.
“I think England's nice this time of year. We would be out from Orchestra's field of view. It could be fun.” Jane said lightly. Tate gave him a fed up look. He wondered if he should even bother arguing. Wondered if he could even stop himself from arguing. The abject terror as he lost any control he could pretend to have to this man. He wondered if there was any point him being here at all.
Patrick seemed to read all of it on his face and he flinched as if he had been hit. His face went blank as if he genuinely was having trouble thinking of a way to fix this. Tate watched as he seemed to realise there was nothing to say.
Tate stood up and walked around, not really sure why he felt the need. Only then Jane looked up at him and he spotted a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He turned, out of breath to watch that all too familiar butterfly land on Jane's hand, the one that curved around the tea cup. Jane didn't feel it and looked calculating when Tate looked at him with open shock.
Somehow all it took was that little touch. He should have felt ganged up on even worse but all he felt was the warmth as he felt all his trust go to the man. Nina trusted him with their daughter and he didn't know why that made all the difference but it did. He felt a smile break out across his face as his main worry just fell away. Patrick looked confused and flushed at the sudden change in his behaviour as for him he could see no reason for it.
“Yeah,” Tate said hushed. “England sounds great.” He could work with this if it was going to go well for them and if Nina said it would then Tate knew it had to.