Author's Note: So, this is my first foray into the world of the Mentalist. It's been one of my favorite shows for a while now, but I've never been able to write something…worthy…because my mind is always caught up in the world of Criminal Minds. But, today I thought it was time to give something new a try, and this little piece was the result! It's based off the episode Aingavite Baa (season two, episode eighteen) and the beginning scene is pretty much word for word. The whole concept of a Lisbon/Jane relationship (in my mind) developed from one quote in this same episode: "I guess it's your way of saying you're unhappy with the way I'm handling Lisbon." "We spend a lot of time together. And when she's unhappy, I'm less happy. It's human nature." It made me realize how much he must care for her, and...this developed. So, now this Author's Note is getting obnoxiously long. I'll stop talking. All in all, I hope you enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist or any of its characters.

"Lisbon."

The dark haired agent slowly raised her head from her work to glare at Jane. "What do you want?" she asked icily.

Patrick Jane calmly strode into her office, closing the door behind him. "There's no point in hiding your frustration with Hightower, you know."

She looked away. "That's really none of your business."

He nodded absentmindedly. "I figured as such." Looking around the fairly small room, he said, "I thought you had gone home already." He motioned to her windows. "Your blinds are drawn." He paused. "Why is that?"

"Hmm…maybe because I didn't want you to seek me out and start asking me mindless questions."

"Touché."

There was a long stretch of silence that passed before Lisbon said, rather quietly, "About Hightower, I…I just…I don't know."

"Come on," he coaxed. "You can tell me. I mean, it's not good to keep things bottled up. Sooner or later, you're just gonna explode with suppressed rage.

"With any luck, you'll be next to me," she quipped.

"Well, that's what I'm worried about."

She smiled slightly. Closing her eyes and leaning back in her desk chair, she sighed heavily. "She's okay, I guess. It's just…I don't appreciate it when she treats me like I can't handle anything by myself. Sometimes, she makes me feel so…so inferior."

Jane frowned. "I didn't think it was possible for things like this to shake you."

"I'm serious, Jane. I mean, all my life, I've been on top of everything. The one thing I like about myself is my ability to be a good leader. When that's taken away from me…"

"It's not. Don't let her."

She snorted mirthlessly. "If only it was that easy."

He looked at her for a long moment before saying, as quietly as possible, "Maybe it is."

"…What do you mean?" she asked curiously, finally meeting his piercing blue eyes.

"I know a way for you to feel in control again," he answered vaguely.

She narrowed her eyes. "If this is another one of your hypnotic, mind-reading, energy transferring games…"

It was his turn to sigh. "Am I not being obvious enough?" he asked in exasperation.

"Apparently not," Lisbon said, a look of confusion etched in her fine features.

Uncharacteristically biting his lip in frustration – and possibly nervousness – he said, "Let me put it this way: How do you feel about me, Teresa?"

She glanced at him in shock. "Jane! I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking…"

He smiled at the childishness of her statement. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well, it was just an option."

"But that's exactly what this whole issue is about! Van Pelt, Rigsby, and their relationship!" she exclaimed.

"…Who said anything about a relationship? It doesn't have to be one if you don't want it to be," Jane pointed out.

"I can't. This is the job, Patrick. It means too much to me to just let it…slip through my fingers," she said seriously.

He nodded. "Well, obviously my feelings aren't reciprocated," he murmured, thinking she couldn't hear.

She could.

Giving Lisbon a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he said, "Forget I ever mentioned it. Have a nice night, Teresa."

He was halfway out the door when her voice stopped him. "Wait." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "What you said earlier…about having feelings all bottled up…that doesn't just apply to Hightower." She looked directly at him as she added, "And you knew that, didn't you?"

He looked innocently back at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," she muttered. "Why don't I make it a little clearer for you? I'm well aware I can be a bitch sometimes. This job? Lately, it's been the only thing I care about. But…I'd be lying if I said I didn't have…feelings…for a certain blonde haired man in this work place."

"Really?" he challenged.

"Really. Honestly, I don't handle commitment well. That's why I'm reluctant. But…"

Jane interrupted her. "I think you should tell me a little bit more about this blonde haired attraction of yours."

Her lip curved upwards. "Hmm…let's see. Well, to start it off, he's extremely cocky, arrogant, impulsive…" She made her way towards him. "But he's also quite charming, charismatic, mysterious, and…" She reached forward to finger his suit jacket, therefore closing the distance between them. "He always wears too many layers."

He chuckled. "I bet I could do something about that last bit."

She smiled mischievously. "Please do."

Looking into her eyes to make sure her decision was final, he gently lowered his lips to hers, capturing her in a kiss like no other.

She did her best to fight back the moan building up in the back of her throat, but once his tongue began to gently massage hers, all her control disappeared.

They broke apart with a strangled gasp, Jane's long nimble fingers tangled in her slightly curling hair.

"Where…where do we go from here?" Lisbon voiced the question on Jane's mind.

"Well…your place or mine?"

"Mine's closer."

~.~.~

They barely made it through the front door.

"Where's your bedroom?" Jane asked breathlessly, reluctantly tearing his lips away from the sensitive skin below her ear.

"First room on the left," she panted, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Without another word, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the desired room, kicking the door shut behind them. As they fell onto the bed, however, Jane maneuvered so that he was on his back, pulling Lisbon on top of him. "Remember?" he whispered almost huskily. "You're in charge."

At that, Lisbon let a small smile grace her lips. "I almost forgot," she whispered, before stripping them both entirely of their clothes.

Jane couldn't help but reach forward and take a perfect breast in his mouth, but Lisbon had other plans.

"Did I say you could touch?" she asked lowly.

A wry smile twisting his mouth, he responded, his pale blue eyes almost sparkling. "Oh, of course. I…I'm so sorry, ma'am. I really didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean it, hmm? That's what they all say."

"Then…maybe you should punish me."

She grinned. "Maybe I should." After a second's pause, she added, "But don't worry, I'm too lazy to get my handcuffs."

"I don't know what I'd do without your kindness, ma'am."

"Oh, you would suffer." And it was then that she sunk down on his length, his fully erect cock growing impossibly harder as it was sheathed in her wet heat.

He let out a strangled groan. "Oh, Teresa…"

"Yes, Patrick?" she asked, her voice taking on a seductive quality.

"I…I need –"

"Shhh," she interrupted, placing her lips on his, gentler this time. "I know exactly what you need."

Mere seconds passed before they were riding out the throes of passion together, Teresa sinking downwards at the exact same moments Patrick thrusted upwards. "I don't think I can hold back any longer," Jane admitted, his fingers digging into her pale yellow, high thread count sheets.

"No, wait for me…I'm so close…"

Unable to take it any longer, Patrick reached between their intertwined bodies and pinched her sensitive clit. Hard.

"Patrick!"

"Teresa…"

With that, they fell over the proverbial edge together. After steadying his heartbeat, Jane said quietly, "I know we said that this doesn't have to develop into a relationship. That is can stay a onetime thing. But…Teresa…I really want to take you to dinner sometime. Would…would that be okay?" he stammered.

Pressing a soft kiss to the base of his throat, she nodded. "That would be absolutely perfect."

And it was.

THE END.

Author's Note: Please don't hesitate to leave me a review, if you have the time. :) I would really like to know how I did, and if I should continue writing stories based on the Mentalist! Thanks for reading, and have a very Merry Christmas!