AN: My second entry for the Super Duper Tag Project. Like with my first story, this was my first time writing season one Lisbon, so if I wander a bit, humor me. I'm just trying to feel my way through. Season One is just so interesting to watch these days! Don't get me wrong – I'm all for moving full speed ahead after Blue Bird…but I wouldn't mind seeing Jane in a vest and no jacket again. Mmmhmm.

Episode Tag: Red Rum

Van Pelt knocked on her office door early the next morning.

"What's up?" she asked, just getting settled at her desk. Let's see, she had a 6780c to file, and then she had to sign off on all of the case closed paperwork and the confession…

"Jane's lighting stuff on fire in the break room," the redhead told her, just barely inside her door. "Thought you might want to know."

"Oh, God," she groaned, without conscious decision to say the words out loud. Yes, she definitely wanted to know.

Before she had even gotten to her feet, the man in question stood in her doorway, grinning cheerfully. Van Pelt, a little red in the cheeks, probably from the knowledge that she had just effectively told on him, said a hasty goodbye and scuttled off to her desk.

Jane dropped onto her couch, a more recent habit of his. He'd told her it was quieter in her office than in the bullpen, and she'd replied that she'd hate to interrupt his nap schedule with people doing actually work. Despite the heavy sarcasm, he'd continued to appear in her office. If she was being very honest, she sort of enjoyed it.

"Well?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

He calmly took a sip of tea, looking politely innocent. "Well, what?"

"Do I need to call the fire department?"

His smile widened, and she had to admit (again, for about the millionth time) that it was really unfair, how attractive he was, especially when he was truly amused. "No. The burnt offerings for the day have concluded."

There was a pause. "Are you going to elaborate on that?"

The grin was back. "I was…unbinding Cho from Tamsin Dove's power."

Suddenly, she knew where this was going. "Were you casting spells in the break room?" As soon as the words left her lips, she realized how bizarre they sounded. Absently, she thought that she was probably the only cop in the state of California that had to say such things.

"More like…uncasting," he said. He gave a little sigh, crossing his legs. "I admit, I felt a little bad about how freaked out Cho got. So I threw some stuff in a jar, told him it came from Tamsin, and left it on his desk."

It was…an unexpectedly sweet gesture, especially from Jane, whom she suspected occasionally forgot other people existed.

"What was in the jar?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Oh, this and that. I burnt a tea bag, some tissues, tossed in a couple of scoops of coffee grounds for good measure. There's definitely a lack of natural herbs in those cupboards, but I found some rosemary seasoning, though I have no idea what year it was from. As long as he doesn't open the jar, which I very much doubt he will, he'll never know the difference."

They shared a smile. She liked being in on the con with Jane, liked knowing what he knew. It made her feel like this man could be her partner someday, instead of just another body on the team.

Rationally, she knew that wasn't quite true. Jane was certainly closer to her than anyone else at CBI. Hell, she thought Jane was probably closer to her than anyone else, period. But she was always on the outside looking in.

She gave a mental sigh. At least it was easy, looking in. Emphasis on looking.

Jane was like some beautiful, empty canvas, or a dream house. Easy to fall in love with – you could imagine anything you wanted to fill the space. She knew very well that most of the women in the building were secretly (and some not so secretly) a little dazzled by him.

She tried hard to keep herself out of that category, though it was certainly difficult at times.

"I talked to the family," Jane added out of the blue.

She blinked. That wasn't Jane's usual style. Something about the situation must've struck a chord with him, and she looked closely at his face.

"Yeah?" she asked quietly.

"They'll be alright," he said, just as softly. "It'll take some time, but they'll make it through. I hope there'll be no more need for witches, false or otherwise."

Under her desk, she stretched out her legs. "Weird, right? The wicked witch of town was actually running a group home for troubled youth."

That brought his smile to the fore again. "It takes all kinds," he said, then swung his legs back onto the couch, arms folded behind his head, a man very much at ease in his environment. She supposed she should take that as a compliment.

"I wonder why Cho's so superstitious about that stuff," she murmured a few minutes later. "He certainly never believes any of your crap."

Jane took a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was sleepy. "I assume it's because his parents have a belief in witchcraft. And a fear of it. Some things we learn at our parents' feet stay with us forever."

She knew by the tone of his voice that he was talking about himself at the end, and she wished she was brave enough to ask the question that had already formed on her lips.

But she wasn't.

Instead, she sipped her coffee and filled out her forms. After a while, she realized Jane was sound asleep, turned onto his side. There was a degree of trust there, she understood, that he would willingly let himself be vulnerable with just her, no one else around to make it a public thing.

She went back to her work, but this time, she was smiling.