Mentalist Episode Tag: Bloodhounds, 3x12

Subtitle: The Big Comfy Couch

Four Days Earlier…

This ratty couch has got to go. That had been Patrick Jane's thought for at least the hundredth time as he lay in Lisbon's office, listening to the tap tap tap of her computer keyboard, alternating with her tired sighs, and soft sips of coffee. Typical Lisbon noises. But, not for the first time, Jane was unsatisfied—at least physically-in his position on her couch. He wanted to be close to her, but was it too much to ask to be comfortable while he loitered? He readjusted the throw pillow beneath his head, then kicked the one at his feet onto the floor. She needed some real pillows that actually aided in one's comfort. And maybe a nice, snuggly blanket.

"Lisbon," he inquired, "what are the three things you look for in a couch?"

"Jane, Hightower is expecting this report in an hour. I really need to get it done without any annoying distractions," she replied meaningfully. He couldn't see her face from his position, but he could imagine her lips were set in a firm line, her green eyes narrowed with determination.

"Well, let me show you mine, then you can show me yours, eh?"

She seemed to be ignoring him, but Jane knew better.

"With a couch, size does in fact matter. It has to be long enough to accommodate the person, but it must be able to fit into tight spaces."

Her tapping stopped. Jane grinned to himself. Sex sells every time.

"Secondly, it must be comfortable. I prefer mine to be rather firm, don't you?"

"Jane—"

"And lastly, you must be able to enjoy it in any position—sitting up, lying down. Personally, I enjoy it lying down, the most. What about you, Lisbon?"

He smiled widely, enjoying himself immensely, his recent discomfort quickly forgotten in light of hers.

"Lisbon?"

"You know what I prefer in a couch, Jane?" She was speaking around a very tight jaw. "One that is there when I need it, fulfills my needs, then stays the hell out of my way."

"Really? And what are your feelings with regard to leather?"

"Get out, Jane."

Four days later…

The Caveman case had wound down, and after saying farewell to the amusing Dr. Montague, Jane took his tea down the hall to Lisbon's office. It had been a hectic few days, and Jane hadn't remembered enjoying working on a case so much in a long time. It was nearly quitting time, but he knew time really had no meaning for CBI in general, and Teresa Lisbon in particular. He continued dunking his tea bag, intending to rest awhile on Lisbon's new couch while subtly perusing Dr. Montague's statistical analysis of Red John. But it wasn't to be. Goldilocks was already sleeping in his bed. Well, Brownilocks, and it was, of course, a large leather couch, with plenty of throw pillows, and even a lovely blue blanket.

He saw her through the window of her office, sleeping like a baby on what she had just this morning sarcastically dubbed Moby Dick, considering how great and white it was. He thought about doing the unselfish thing—letting her rest after all the hard work she'd just put in. But Jane couldn't resist this opportunity to rub in the fact that he was right. It was a matter of principle. He turned the knob softly on her closed door, set his tea and file on her desk, then tiptoed over to where the sleeping agent lay.

He knelt down beside her. As he looked at her, so peaceful and innocent in rest, Jane felt his heart constrict a little. He loved her-had for awhile, but he wasn't sure quite how to define these feelings. It was not exactly the love for a sister, nor was it completely on the romantic side, although he admired her beauty and felt the occasional small tug of physical attraction take him by surprise at times. They were friends. They depended upon each other. They bickered like siblings but cared about each other in ways deeper than any friendship or familial relationship could be. Whatever this was, it compelled him to want to take care of her, to defend her, to protect her, to buy her things like emerald necklaces and ponies and…couches.

He had fully intended to awaken her and gloat that she had liked this new couch so much more than the other that she had actually fallen asleep upon it. He'd never seen her do more than throw herself down on the old one out of frustration or pure exhaustion. Never had he seen her actually sleeping deeply, as she was now. Suddenly, the idea of gloating held no more appeal. He settled for reaching for the blanket that still lay over the back of the couch, then unfolded it and gently lay it over her, pleased that he'd guessed correctly and it covered her completely from feet to chin. She gave a little moan in her sleep, then turned on her side away from him.

Jane grinned, kissed her soft cheek, then rose to his feet. He'd reached the door when his competitive nature got the better of him, and he moved quietly to sit in Lisbon's desk chair. Taking a piece of plain white printer paper and a black Sharpie marker, he began to draw. A few minutes later, he left his artwork on her desk with a triumphant smile, and propped it against her computer where she was sure to see it.

Later that night…

Lisbon was surprised to awaken two hours after she'd laid down on the monstrous couch. She sat up, slightly disoriented, noting that hers was the only light on in the immediate office area. She yawned and stretched, then decided the rest of the reports could wait for the morning. That damned couch had lulled her into a female version of Jane, loafing on the job. No wonder he'd given it to me, she smiled. He was constantly trying to find some way to corrupt me.

She sighed, figuring she'd check her e-mail one last time and head home. The black line drawing resting on her closed laptop was eerily similar to the recent Caveman drawings Jane had forged. When she realized what was in this picture, however, she couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped through her lips.

It was a giant whale, bearing down on a woman rakishly wearing an old sea captain's hat, helplessly trying to defend herself with only a cross and a badge. Beneath the childish depiction of ocean waves, Jane had written a helpful caption:

Captain Lisbon Succumbs to Moby Dick

She glanced over at the couch and smiled. This new couch was definitely much nicer and more comfortable then her old one, but she knew Jane's gift hadn't been entirely selfless. He hadn't been comfortable on her old couch, and it touched her to realize that he would likely be spending more time in her office, keeping her company. She might act annoyed, but she liked having him near her. At least then, she knew that he was staying out of mischief. She didn't want to even contemplate that it might be more than that.

Forgetting about her e-mail, Lisbon grabbed her purse from her desk drawer, grabbed a few files for some before-bed reading, then left the empty headquarters of the CBI.

Helios Street Shelter

"What's this?" asked the diminutive woman who answered the back door of the homeless shelter. Two men stood in the alley, holding a large couch between them. Their pickup truck idled nearby.

"A donation," said one man.

"Wow!" commented the woman. "It looks to be in too great of shape to be a castoff. Where'd you get it?"

"Some guy called us yesterday to come by CBI Headquarters to pick it up. They must be cleaning house over there."

"Yeah, redecorating the dungeons," the other man laughed.

"Well, bring it on in," she told them, stepping aside. "We can always use another bed. Although, now that I look at it more closely, it really doesn't look that comfortable." She shrugged. "Oh well, every donation is always welcome…"

A/N: I really wish something like this had happened on the show. All those missed Jisbon opportunities...Anyway, I had fun writing this. Please let me know what YOU thought!