I definitely don't know where this came from, because there isn't really a plot. I just started writing and this happened. It's actually very strange because I've started working on many different Mentalist stories, and the only one that isn't serious and doesn't have a real plot is the one that is posted first. Oh well, I hope you enjoy!
I don't own it.
. . . .
"You flirt with Jane."
Lisbon gapes, mastering the look of defiance, annoyance and shock rolled into one. "I do not."
"Yes, you do. You two fight, argue, whatever you want to call it, but it's flirting, all under the pretense of hating each other." He scratches his head. "I can't believe I didn't notice it before this. He flirts with you too. Like crazy."
"Don't be stupid. That's absurd, Rigsby. Jane and I can't even stand each other."
"Maybe it's just sexual tension, boss."
She stiffens. "Keep this up," Lisbon quips dangerously, "and you're going to have to find a new job."
Rigsby gulps. And promptly drops the subject.
. . . .
"You flirt with Jane."
"For god's sake, what is wrong with everyone today?" Lisbon says with disdain, taking a sip of her coffee. "I do not flirt with Jane. I do not even like Jane. How could I possibly be flirting with him?"
"And he flirts with you too! He never leaves you alone. He only does things to see your reaction."
"Thank you, Doctor Freud."
"You really can't see it?"
"Van Pelt, don't you have work to do?"
Van Pelt sighs. "Please don't be mad. I actually think it's rather romantic."
Lisbon frowns at the younger agent. "You've got a rubbish sense of romance."
"You've never thought about…you know…with Jane?"
"You know what? No. I don't know." Lisbon glares, effectively ending the conversation.
. . . .
"You flirt with Jane."
"Oh sure, when I tell him I am going to shoot him, there's an underlying meaning, I'm really asking him to dinner." She frowns suddenly. "Not you too, Cho. I thought I could count on you for solidarity."
Cho shrugs impassively. "It's just something I noticed lately. I thought I would bring it up."
"Well, don't."
"As you wish, boss." He pauses artfully. "But if I recall correctly, Jane didn't bring me roses for no particular reason. And I didn't get a pony, either."
"…Shut up, Cho."
"Sorry, boss."
. . . .
"You flirt with me."
"I know."
"Yes, you do. I know how you really feel about me, Lisbon, try as you may to—wait, you know?"
"Fooled you."
"Oh Lisbon, you're simply adorable."
She whirls to face him and looks him dead in the eye. "This was your idea, wasn't it? You put the whole team up to this."
Jane's eyes widen innocently. "What ever do you mean, Lisbon?"
"Don't start with me. They can't all have had the same death wish at the same time. What did you bribe them with? Money? Jewelry? A free palm reading?"
He rolls his eyes, unfazed. "And I suppose it's not possible that the team is just making a casual and painfully obvious observation?"
She narrows her eyes. "No."
"Or that they just want you to be happy."
Her glower only intensifies. "I'm not an experiment, and this is the CBI, not The Dating Game."
"So you really don't think that you flirt with me? Or that I flirt with you?" Jane frowns.
"That would be unprofessional."
"More unusual things have happened, you know. Besides, unprofessional is fun."
"I don't do unprofessional."
"So you don't do fun?"
"That's not what I said."
"But you just said—"
"You know, sometimes I really honestly regret hiring you. Even though you close cases."
"—Even though it would be so sophomoric to seduce you in the workplace, sometimes I think it's actually not that bad of an idea. How's that for honesty?"
"Go away, Jane."
"Only if you kiss me goodbye."
"So help me, Jane, I will rip out your intestines and choke you with them."
"…Ouch."
"Exactly."
"Fine, fine, I'm leaving, darling."
"Good riddance."
He hesitates in the doorway. "Lisbon?"
"What, Jane?"
"I just asked nicely. By the way."
"Ask who nicely for what?"
"The team. For their help." He grins disarmingly. "They were surprisingly compliant. They're rooting for us, you know. Especially Van Pelt." He winks. "I think they have a running bet. I just might chip in myself."
Jane ducks out of the room, missing the stapler thrown at him by inches.
. . . .
Reviews would be appreciated!