In the end it's Cho who makes the bet.
The pair's leaning against the far end of the 'serve yourself' table, drinks in hand.
"I'll bet you 50 bucks Jane and Lisbon leave here together." The words flow out; his face remains the emotionless mask it normally is. Rigsby, to his right gags on his own drink, clearing his throat and sputtering in an attempt to speak.
"Sorry?" He coughs.
"You heard me." Cho answers.
Rigsby frowns, "But, that's like you just giving me 50 bucks, they'd never get together."
Cho snorts, his lips turn up a fraction. "Fine, 200, you give me 200 if they leave together, and I'll give you 200 if they don't."
Rigsby stares at him for several seconds before asking, "Are you drunk?"
"No." He deadpans.
"Any particular reason you wanna bet on this?"
Cho shifts in his spot, "I'm low on money." He lies, and adds, "You need something to keep your mind off this." He gestures to the scenery around them.
"You think a simple bet like that is gonna keep my mind off the fact Grace just got married?"
"With 200 bucks at stake I would think so." He answers.
Rigsby is silent for several more seconds before answering, "Fine then, it's a bet, where are they?" Cho uncrosses his arms and points to a table across the ball room, the table designated for himself, Lisbon, Jane and Rigsby.
The pair in question are chatting, Lisbon with a small smile on her face and Jane with a look of disgust on his, a hand wiping at his mouth. The grimace changes to a small smile behind his hand as he looks at Lisbon though, who's beginning to laugh, he says something and she laughs a little harder.
What could have been become a smug look melts from Rigsby's face. "Oh." He states and clears his throat, "It doesn't count if one of them is completely wasted though." He says; the words almost coming out in a rush.
"Alright." Cho responds, crossing his arms again, watching as Jane places a Styrofoam cup on the table, grimacing once more; Lisbon smirks.
"Tea." Rigsby comments with a small chuckle.
"I've already tried it, it's pretty terrible."
"Must be hell for him then."
Jane says something and Lisbon blushes, the color just barely showing on her cheeks and rolls her eyes; reaching for the champagne glass and taking a few sips of it. "Crap." Rigsby hisses and a sliver of a smile appears on Cho's face, he clasps his hand on Rigsby's shoulder.
"Might wanna fine an ATM." He says before walking away.
"No, but that is truly disgusting. Why would you even give me something like that?" Jane whines; watching the color fade from her cheeks as she lifts the glass to her lips again.
"I hadn't tried it; I didn't know it was so bad." She shrugs, careful not to slosh the champagne (which she took from him, claiming that if he wasn't going to drink it, she was, and he could have the tea she'd found).
"Where did you get it from?" He asks and she points to the table filled with Styrofoam cups labeled with the star bucks dark green symbol.
"Lisbon," He states. "That table is hardly missing any cups; I think that's a fare clue that it's bad."
"Or that not many people drink tea." She responds, taking setting the glass back down on the table top.
"Anybody will drink tea if it's good tea." He retorts and she shakes her head.
"Alright, if that's what you wanna believe." She says, as she speaks her face turns to a slight look of confusion; she's paying attention to the music in the background.
Saying I love you, is not the words I want to hear from you, it's not that I want you.
He shifts in his chair, turning slightly closer towards her; more into her personal space; watching the look of realization fade over her face, followed by the small bit of embarrassment that follows. "Oh god." She whispers and he grins.
"Wanna dance?" He asks and she looks at him.
"You set this up." She says.
He simply smiles, "I may have suggested it to Grace."
"Like you suggested I wanted to be a bride's made." She replies with the hint of a smile on her face.
"But you do,subconsciously at least." He insists, still smiling. "So, may I have this dance?" He stands, pushing himself from the chair, offering her his hand; the smile turns to a rather confident looking smirk.
She hesitates, eyeing him. "No funny business." She says it like a statement, but it sounds like a question.
"Of course not," He wiggles his hand slightly and she takes hit, and he leads them to the very edge of where the other guests are dancing. He lifts their intertwined hands to about shoulder hight.
His free hand sliding around to cup her waist and pull her against him; her own free hand comes up and rests on his shoulder, she hesitates for a moment but then he feels it go limp against his shoulder, not bothering to hold it up herself and she leans into him.
"Déjà vu." He whispers and she nods, her cheek brushing against the side of his neck, a free tuft of hair itching at his chin.
Silence fills the space between them for about thirty seconds; the chorus of the song blaring in the background. She speaks eventually in a hushed tone, whispered against his neck. "Is he really dead?" She asks, He stutters in his rhythmatic steps but soon regains the rhythm and clears his throat.
"It is, the man I killed was Red John." He states, tilting his head slightly and leaning it against hers. "It's over Teresa." His chest swells as he breaths in and exhales in a sigh, he turns them both in a small circle, swaying in spot rather than small steps.
She doesn't speak right after but when she does she sounds hesitant. "Now what?"
He doesn't move his head from where he leans it against hers, "I'm not leaving the CBI, if that's what you're asking." He answers.
"That's good; we need you to close cases."
He gives a small chuckle, but it doesn't last long, "Of course."
"How's your arm?" He asks softly.
"It's improving." She answers, her fingers twitch from where her hand rests on his shoulder.
He turns them in a small slow circle, swaying as he goes, the song is nearing its end when he speaks again, "Cho and Rigsby are staring at us."
"We are dancing." Lisbon answers. He takes a step to the right, "That can't be a normal sight for them."
He gives a hum and frowns, "They've made a bet," He pauses, "and Rigsby's losing." He says softly after a few seconds and she lifts her head from where she lean's it against his neck and glances over her shoulder, watching a slight glimpse of horror appear on Rigsby's face as they lock eyes. He promptly turns his gaze elsewhere, preferably to look at Cho, who's glancing between the three of them.
"Uh oh." Jane murmurs, turning them again.
"What?" She asks and he clears his throat.
"Nothing." He answers, taking a step back and spinning her, making sure to spin her with the arm that hadn't been shot, and pulls her back against his chest.
"Was that really necessary?" She asks when he changes the tempo to fit the next song.
"Not really but you enjoyed it." He answers, smiling down at her, taking a step back and she follows in suit.
"Are they still looking at us?" She asks as he turns them.
He glances over his shoulder and shakes his head. "Nope but I'm sure they've just gone to spread some gossip."
She gives a small chuckle, "I'll kill them for it later." She rests her chin on his shoulder.
He gives another hum in response, "What do you think the bet's about?" She asks after a few seconds.
His hum turns to an unpleasant noise; she opens her eyes and lifts her head from his shoulder and pulls back to look at him, raising a eyebrow. He shrugs slightly and mumbles, "You don't wanna know."
"Oh, I don't?"
"No, you really don't Teresa, trust me."
"And you get to decide that for me?"
"With what they're betting on, yeah, I like to think I do."
"Just tell me,"
"You sure?"
"Yes, Jane, I'm sure."
"They're betting on if we're gonna go home together tonight and have sex."