Disclaimer: If wishes were fishes, my computer would have a lot of water damage, and my cats would be more interested in watching television. Yeah, I don't own this show.
Author's Note: Episode tag for 3.20 "Redacted".
A/N2: LittleMender supplied the last line.
He was lying on his side on the white couch in her office; she leaned back in her desk chair, giving her eyes a rest from staring at the computer.
He said, "You haven't asked me for anything, Lisbon. There must be something you want in return for helping me with the Culpepper situation."
"The only thing I can think of to want is something that's hard to ask for," she said as a wave of delicate blush rolled over her face.
A devilish grin crossed his for a moment when he asked, "Hiding a body?"
"You think I'd ask your help hiding a body?" She spun around to look directly at him, bolder now.
"I'm a good friend. I'm the one you should go to for that." He broke into his best Groucho Marx voice to say, "It would be a shame to hide your body, but I'd help if you asked." He raised his eyebrows twice and swirled his fingers around on the pillow he had crushed to him.
"Ok, no more screwball comedy marathons for you." She shuddered slightly and rolled her eyes back. "Thanks, but I'm fresh out of bodies that need to be disposed of at the moment. And where did that idea come from?"
"You said it was hard to ask for, which for most people means sex, drugs, or hiding a body. I just started with the one least likely to earn a mention in a Steve Miller Band song. That leaves us with sex or drugs."
"What? No - Go show yourself a good time. And no drugs, either, Midnight Stroker." She plunged into her request, "I was talking about pulling out the linoleum in my bathroom and laying down ceramic tile. I finally got approval from my landlord, but heaven only knows what kind of adhesive they used to put down that floor."
"Oh. That's too bad. Sex is much easier," he replied with a satisfied smirk.
Channeling Mae West, she said, "Not the way I do it."