A/N: Okay, so I totally whored out my own fic to Ebony10 in exchange for her extended version of a chapter from her very lovely 30SoR series (the fic is called 'Boxers, Briefs and Finish Lines,' so go. Shoo. Read and review it, because it was absolutely a blast.). In return, I promised to dish up Halloween and the payout from Jane and Lisbon's midnight conversation in 'Vermilion Revelations,' but you should be able to follow this without the backstory. Sure, dealing my fic like smack is shameful, but I really, really wanted to read that fic continuation... what can I say? I'm weak. :)

Also, I completely refuse to either confirm or deny whether VR will go this route (yes, because I'm evil).

Jane carefully drew a small green dot in the corner of the date marked October 1st on the previously unused calendar on his mostly unused desk, grinning the entire time.

---

It had been a long day, and it was only 1:00 pm. Well, 12:57, which meant Lisbon had a whole three minutes of lunch left. Not like it mattered. Nothing worthwhile could happen in three minutes, she thought, wiping a tired hand over her grainy, tired eyes. God, what she wouldn't give to be able to go home, take a bubble bath and open the bottle of wine she had in the fridge. Instead, she opened her file cabinet with a sigh. Paperwork to do, and lots of it. Jane had been a bad influence on the team.

"What the-" She stared at the neatly folded tissue paper resting on top of the file she'd been working on before she'd gone to lunch with Van Pelt. Poking it with a cautious finger, she glanced around, half-expecting someone to pop out from behind her chair yelling 'Surprise!'. Exactly three seconds later, her bellowed 'Jane!' could be heard all the way up by Minelli's office.

And on the couch, Jane smiled. She'd found the first part of her costume, apparently.

He did hope she was a 32C. That sparkly bra was precisely the shade of emerald he'd been looking for… Something smacked him in the face.

"And what the hell is that?" Lisbon snarled, looming over him with an expression that he could truly term murderous.

Knowing better than to hold it up for examination, which really might result in Lisbon trying to kill him, Jane tucked the scrap of green fabric into his pocket before sitting up. "Part of your costume, Lisbon. Or have you forgotten?"

The look she gave him should have fried him on the spot. "I haven't even given you your costume yet, so why are you leaving me little hooker Tinker Bell presents, Jane?" She looked around to make sure no one was listening. The team had wisely, in her opinion, adjourned to the kitchen for some coffee. "If this is your idea of a joke, I'm going to knock your teeth out one by one and use them to-"

He held up his hands placatingly. "Easy there, killer. It's not a joke. I just thought that buying you a costume meant an entire costume." Jane gave her his best wide-eyed innocent face. "Trust me, Lisbon. You'd be more upset realizing you had no, uh, support garments that fit under the costume than getting this."

"You can't buy me lingerie," she protested, feeling her face flare bright red. "It's… it's…"

Jane smiled encouragingly. "It's what?"

She wanted to wring his neck, the irritating, purposely provoking idiot. "Oh, I don't know," she drawled, her voice low and biting. "Wrong? Improper? Creepy? Come on, Jane, I can go all afternoon here. Buying your boss a br- this thing is not okay. Even you know that." Shaking her head, she stalked back to her office.

And when she gathered her briefcase to go home that night, she noticed a flash of green sparkle inside. She was going to murder that man.

---

October 8th. Gleefully, Jane scuttled around on the couch so he could have a better view of Lisbon's door. The flutter of anticipation in his belly was remarkably similar to that of a child on Christmas Eve. This costume exchange was strangely exciting; he found that he spent more time imagining Lisbon's reactions to things than he actually did examining the items he shopped for, a phenomenon that had annoyed the majority of the saleswomen that tried to help him.

---

It was a fact that she would never admit, even under torture- last Friday, when she'd gotten home, the first thing Lisbon had done was try on the green bra. Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, she was forced to admit three things:

1. Jane was an absurdly good appraiser of bra size. The damned thing fit like a dream.

2. The deep blueish-green was a killer color on her skin. She'd vowed right then and there to look for a blouse in that color for her occasional dates.

3. It was, without question, the sexiest bra she owned. It was a sad statement that her most provocative piece of lingerie came from a co-worker.

And God help her if she got killed today, because she was wearing the damned thing now. She'd resisted it the entire work week, but Friday morning, when she'd pulled out a nice green shirt, she couldn't help but select the bra.

So she accepted it as some sort of twisted karmic joke when she walked in and found a honey blonde wig with bangs and a carefully created bun hanging from the coat rack in her office. Well, at least it wasn't panties.

Glancing out through the blinds on her door, she noticed Jane laying the opposite way on the couch as he usually did. The insufferable man was practically vibrating with anticipation, a fact she could see clear from her door. So he wanted a reaction, did he? Tough.

But by five-fifty, almost a full hour after she'd told him he could go home, Jane was still finding reasons not to leave for the day yet. He'd even volunteered to help Cho review and re-log case files from the state audit. Lisbon snickered. He was sitting at his desk, holding a highlighter, for God's sake.

"All right, you two, I'm headed out. Don't stay too late," she warned, slipping her coat on as she stuck her head into the bullpen. "Goodnight." Jane's face was priceless- even now, with her seconds from walking out, he looked like he was on tenterhooks.

Sitting in her car, she looked at the blonde wig in her briefcase. She turned up the heat, fiddled with the radio and looked back at the building. "Oh, the hell with it," Lisbon muttered.

Jane was crushed. He'd been hoping for some reaction from Lisbon, even just a comment about her wig, but she hadn't given him a single crumb, which was an answer in itself, he knew. Well, he'd finish up the file he'd offered to review for Cho and call it a night. The sound of Cho's cell ringing barely intruded on his consciousness.

"Jane." Cho hung up the phone. "Jane. Hey, man, anyone home?"

He looked up. "Sorry, I was thinking. What can I do for you?"

Shaking his head, Cho picked up a file. "Message for you. Look out the window."

The sight that greeted him was comical- Lisbon, sitting in her beat-up Chevy Blazer, wearing her wig and grinning. It felt like a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding released in his chest. He waved, beaming like an idiot.

Lisbon roared off, a warm feeling in her stomach. And when she checked the text message on her phone at a red light, she laughed.

'Never go blonde. It washes you out. –J'

---

On October 15th, Jane made a concerted effort to be away from Lisbon, volunteering for every interview, every trip out of the office. After all, he wasn't an idiot.

---

He was a dead man.

After the Great Bra Incident of October 1st, as she thought of it, Lisbon didn't think there was anything else Jane could do that would embarrass her as much. The very thought of him in a lingerie store thinking whether a bra would fit or flatter her made her blush an alarming shade of red.

But now, of course, he'd gone seventeen steps over the line. Leave it to Patrick Jane to create the Ides of October.

The little black jeweler's box with its red bow had intrigued her. There were very few women that could resist a jeweler's box with their name on it- and she was not one. She'd expected a pin, or a necklace, or something small that would go with Tinker Bell's outfit. What Lisbon had not been expecting was a very small wad of emerald green silk.

Sitting in the bathroom stall, she glared at the box in her hand. She'd rushed to the restroom to actually take the fabric out, completely unwilling to risk the possibility of removing what she thought this gift was in a place where anyone else could possibly see her. With a deep breath, she snapped the box open again. Dammit.

She'd been right. Jane was completely incapable of understanding personal boundaries.

Panties. He'd bought her panties that were the precise shade of the bra. Goddammit.

Lisbon didn't know what she was feeling as she looked at the alarmingly small underwear in her hand. Numb, certainly, but there was a weird flutter in her belly that she refused to accept might be excitement. No, this was Jane. It must be embarrassment. The flutter was nothing more than acute embarrassment at the thought of Jane buying these, picturing her in them- oh God. There was no way she was wearing underwear Jane had held. Then she'd spend the entire Halloween party imagining very un-colleague like thoughts about his hands.

Deep breaths, Teresa. That's right, deep, slow breaths. Good girl.

When she exited the bathroom and walked purposefully towards Jane's couch to tell him in no uncertain terms that he'd gone over the line and had to stop, Lisbon frowned. His couch was empty. She glanced around. He'd been here two minutes ago when she'd headed for the ladies' room.

"Where's Jane?" she barked, sending Rigsby jumping in his chair.

"Uh, he left with Van Pelt, boss. Said he wanted to be there for the Nelson interview."

As Lisbon stalked away without a word, Rigsby frowned. "What'd I do?" he asked the almost empty room.

Cho snorted. "Don't ask. I think Jane and the boss are playing some weird sex game."

That comment had Rigsby's full attention. "Oh, come on," he scoffed, spinning his chair around to face Cho. "That's ridiculous."

Dry amusement colored his voice as Cho replied, "Think about it, man. Not so ridiculous now, is it?"

---

The 22nd of October dawned clear and cold, an aberration in the normally pleasant California autumn. It was magical, and reminded him of the crisp fall air of Indiana. As Jane walked into Lisbon's office with the box tucked carefully under his arm, he grinned. Boy, she'd really been angry about the underwear. Granted, he'd known that when he'd bought them and dismissed it. She'd have her little hissy fit, swear and yell at him if she could get him alone long enough to do so, but he'd been unable to resist.

After all, a deal was a deal. He'd bought her a Tinker Bell costume, a complete one. It wasn't his fault if she'd failed to specify the parameters of their deal before they shook on it.

---

When she discovered the carefully wrapped fairy wings on her chair, Lisbon's first reaction was relief. Wings weren't embarrassing. They didn't make her stomach tingle. They were just wings.

And so when she'd called Jane into her office as the team left for lunch, she'd propped a hip against her desk and waited.

"They're lovely," were his first words upon opening her door. "Particularly with that suit jacket and the gun on your belt. You could be the Law Enforcement Fairy."

Lisbon reached a hand over her shoulder to touch the opalescent fabric. "You know, I'm kind of partial to them myself."

He pushed the door open farther and waved at her. "Come on, Lisbon the Law Enforcement Fairy. Rigsby lost a bet with Van Pelt. He's paying for lunch today."

"Seriously?" She grabbed her keys hastily. "Oh, this'll be good. I'm going to eat enough to make up for all those free lunches he's mooched off me."

Jane grinned and caught her shoulder as she tried to pass him. "You might want to leave those here, Lisbon." Easing the harness from her shoulders, he smiled and hung the wings gently on her coat rack as Lisbon rushed from the room. One thing he'd learned early was never to stand between Teresa Lisbon and free food.

---

By October 29th, Jane was nearly giddy with excitement. He'd left the final part of Lisbon's costume in her office for her, and surely she'd have his superhero costume for him today. After all, the fliers Maggs had posted around the building said the party was for the next night, a Saturday, at a local dance club, a significant step up from the office party last year.

She'd stuck her head out of her office and grinned at him as soon as she'd gotten in, so he knew she'd found her Tinker Bell dress. He also knew she'd heaved a very large sigh of relief to find that it had been as proper as Disney made. Too bad she couldn't know how much he'd been tempted to buy the version he'd found at Lolita's Treasure Chest- for a mere $54.99, he could have laughed himself silly for a year. Unfortunately, a large portion of that year would probably have been spent in the hospital, if he knew Lisbon.

---

When Lisbon found her actual Tinker Bell costume, she'd heaved the biggest sigh of relief in her life. It covered everything it was supposed to and wasn't as short as she'd thought it'd be. Holding it up to her frame, the handkerchief hem almost touched her knees. The fact that it was a child's extra-large was kind of funny, but she was too pleased to do anything but smile.

She looked at the box she'd stuffed into her briefcase that morning and grinned. Oh yes, her plan for today was specifically designed to torture one Patrick Jane. She'd thought long and hard about this and had made sure to bring everything she'd need. She'd also made sure to change the combination lock on her briefcase the previous night- otherwise, she was sure she'd have one eager and shady consultant digging through her briefcase the moment she left her office unoccupied today.

"Ha!" she said with a self-satisfied smirk. "I've got your number, Jane."

---

Jane was crushed. He drove home in quite a snit, even yelling out his window at an old man that cut him off on the highway. All day long, he'd kept a good half of his awareness on Lisbon and where she was, how she was behaving. Other than an overall smirkiness to her all day, there'd been no indication that she'd hidden his costume.

Before he'd left for the night, he'd double-checked his desk and the area around his couch. He'd even pulled down the cardboard containers holding all of his old files from his days as a psychic. Nothing.

Even his blatant attempts to jog her memory failed. He'd asked if her costume was ready for the party, asked why she seemed so self-satisfied, even brought up random superheroes in conversation with her. Nothing. Whatever he'd thought she'd been planning had been wrong, and he was forced to admit how much his feelings were actually hurt.

He'd gone to bed in as foul a mood as he could remember.

---

At six o'clock in the morning on October 30th, just before the sky began to lighten with dawn, Lisbon flipped open her cell.

---

The incessant ringing by his ear jolted Jane out of very disjointed dreams. "'Lo?" he answered groggily, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Jane?"

It was Lisbon. He sat up and ran a hand over his rumpled vest. It must be a case. "Where's the crime scene?" he asked, searching blindly in the darkness for his shoes.

Taking a deep breath and making sure to keep her voice even and business-like, Lisbon smiled and settled herself more comfortably on her seat. "Out in the middle of nowhere. Just meet up with the team at the office. I'm already at the scene." She smiled wickedly. "Oh, and Jane? Don't drive like an idiot to get here. No speeding."

He rolled his eyes in the darkness. "Lay off, woman. It's rude to badger me before dawn."

It only took him a few minutes to brush his teeth and get himself ready; after all, this was far from the first middle-of-the-night summons he'd received from Lisbon. But when he unlocked the door of his Citroen, he stopped cold. There was an outfit draped over his seat- a black, broad-brimmed hat, a red-lined black cape, a jaunty red scarf and a black suit.

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?"

Jane turned slowly, finally catching sight of Lisbon in the first grey light of dawn. She'd been sitting on an overturned bucket next to his front steps. He'd walked right by her. "Good morning," he said automatically, still a little stunned. He picked up the hat. "How'd you get in my car?"

She sniffed disdainfully. "A 70s Citroen? Please, Jane, I could Slim Jim this thing in my sleep." Her eyes found his, eagerly looking for his reaction. "So what do you think?"

Studying the hat in his hands, he gave it an experimental twirl before settling it on his head at a rakish angle. Pulling out the cape, he gave it the same careful consideration before tying it over his shoulders and winding the scarf around his neck. Glancing at Lisbon, he held up the suit. It looked like it would fit.

"I snuck a peek at your jacket while you were sleeping on the couch a few weeks ago," she confessed with a small smile. "I had to guess on the pants."

"Thirty two- thirty four," he responded absently.

Suddenly, her grand plan seemed silly and strangely too intimate. Lisbon stood and stuffed her hands in her coat pockets uncomfortably. "Do you like it?" she asked, telling herself it wasn't shyness in her voice.

Closing his car door, Jane laid the suit carefully on the hood. "It's perfect," he replied solemnly. "Not the conventional choice at all. I would have thought you'd get me a Superman or an Iron Man costume, or something readily available. I can't imagine many shops carry The Shadow, at least not this century."

Lisbon smiled, relaxing slightly. "So I like old movies," she defended, voice mild. "Besides, you're not really a Superman or a Wolverine or an Iron Man. I thought the Shadow was perfect for you."

He liked that she'd put so much consideration into her choice, liked it quite a bit. "Thanks," Jane said softly, moving closer to see her face better in the weak light.

Throat suddenly dry, Lisbon swallowed convulsively. The mood wasn't what she'd expected at all. He was smiling, but it was that enigmatic little smile he wore that told her exactly nothing. No one was laughing, no one was teasing. It was strange, different and very, very unsettling as Jane advanced on her, black cape swirling around his legs and hat tilted mysteriously over one side of his face. "You're welcome," she croaked.

Jane felt the smile slide from his lips as he came to a stop in front of Lisbon. She wasn't an idiot- he could tell that she felt the unusual tension, too. Looking at her closely, he had the sudden thought that she was a creature made for the hours between dusk and dawn- the dark hair, the pale skin and subtly shaded eyes were too delicately cast for the strong light of day, an amusing contrast to her bold as noon personality. But her physical coloring was something to be appreciated in light like this, or by moonlight filtered through curtains. She was a study of nuance that only came out in the right circumstances.

He eased a step closer, tilted his head down. "You smell like cinnamon," Jane murmured, gazing at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

The air suddenly felt very, very thick in her lungs. If it was anyone else, she'd say he was about to-

He bent his head closer and let his brain go.

Kiss her. Lisbon's eyes flared, and she was shocked into immobility as Jane's lips brushed chastely against her own. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but the innocence of it felt more intimate than if he'd crushed her in his arms and explored her mouth with his tongue. It was Jane. Jane wasn't subtle, but bold, out-sized, and such a delicate kiss felt like it somehow meant more. And before she'd finished the thought, the kiss was over and he was again watching her from hooded eyes, carefully cataloguing her reactions and reading her expression.

"Thank you," he repeated softly, watching thoughts chase each other across her face.

Nodding jerkily, Lisbon took a much needed step back. "Yeah, no problem," she replied quickly, too quickly. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "So the team is just going to meet at the club- you got a flier, right? Because I think Van Pelt put one on your desk, and-"

"Lisbon." He smiled. She was going to bolt any second. "I know where Voodoo is. I MapQuested it with Rigsby yesterday."

Fishing out her keys, Lisbon nodded again, cursing herself. A five year old could tell he'd thrown her- badly. "Okay. See you there."

Carefully collecting the suit from his car hood, Jane watched as Lisbon hurried to her battered old SUV. He smiled slightly as her tires sprayed gravel as she shifted and moved down the driveway at a speed she'd have yelled at him for. He hadn't meant to kiss her. He frowned, looking back at the house. Other than the kiss he'd pressed to Sophie's cheek, he hadn't kissed anyone since… since. It had been purely impulsive, a mindless reaction to how perfectly her costume choice had fit him- it was a choice only a woman that knew him very well, that cared what he thought, could make.

Walking back into the empty, silent house, Jane's frown deepened. Knowing himself, his goals, his utter determination to plow through anything in his way to reach those goals, he had to acknowledge that it had been a mistake. Rationally, he knew it had been a mistake on many levels.

But on one small, long-unused level, it had felt right. Perfectly so. This bore further examination, he thought, bypassing the stairs and heading for the back patio he never used.

To Be Continued...

*ducks the rotten tomatoes being hurled* Okay, in my defense, I had to cut the fic somewhere, and this was the best spot.

Plus, the second half is just as long, and no one wants to read a 9,000 word one-shot. Eyes would bleed, families would go unfed and I'd receive hate mail from teachers demanding to know why their favorite students failed to turn in their homework. That's right, I'm looking at you. :D (In case you lot can't tell, I'm a bit of a goofball. A/Ns are never to be taken seriously in my stories. Ever. Erm- except for this one, of course.)

In all seriousness, reviews are love. In fact, they make me giddy (and write faster). I should have the second part finished by Sunday, I think.

Hugs to you all,

MBA