This is one of the Summer Secret Santa Fics I have done for Lizzybeth! This is also my...erm first attempt to write humour :D

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist

All Fixed

There was something wrong.

The blond man quirked his eyebrow, running his finger down the side of his jaw as he cocked his head to the side. His brow twitched, his fingers paused, he blinked. He brought his hand down, clasping both arms over his chest as he shifted his positions, fingers now drumming against his arm.

There was something wrong.

Rigsby walked into the bullpen, his gaze falling right on Jane. The larger man turned to Van Pelt, bending down slightly to her height, "What's wrong with Jane?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know, he's been like this all morning, it's weird, even for Jane," her hazel eyes glanced back up at Rigsby, her mouth parting slightly.

The dark haired man pulled himself back up again, running his hand through his hair and breathing in, then exhaling, "Ja-."

Jane brought his hand up, effectively silencing the man, "Sssh," he turned bringing his fingers to his lips, "I need to concentrate," he then turned his attention back to the old leather couch. He brought his hand up again, running his hand along his brow as he sighed in frustration, "Something's wrong with my couch."

Van Pelt rolled her eyes, her body slumping before regaining her posture quickly. Rigsby brought both hands to his sides, glancing around the bullpen to keep Jane from noticing his actions: rolling his eyes.

"Jane, it's just a couch," Van Pelt stated, leaned back in her rolling desk chair, "It's not like it was replaced overnight," Jane whipped around towards her, eyes narrowing.

"The last time someone touched my couch was when this here space was bugged," he glanced up at the ceiling, finger pointing upwards in said direction, "We could never be too sure…LISBON!" he shouted, spinning around and heading towards the door way. He braced himself against it, about ready to re-open his mouth when the petite brunette woman moved through her already open door, clutching onto a warm cup of coffee.

"What, Jane?" one arm gestured outwards as she continued towards him, "What is it this time?"

He pointed in the direction of his couch, "Someone touched my couch," he whined, knees bending downwards before coming back up.

Lisbon leaned backwards, bringing the hot Styrofoam cup to her lips. She gulped down the hot liquid, feeling instantly happier with the caffeine in her system, "I moved the couch Jane," Jane looked appalled.

Something was wrong, Lisbon never touched the couch, except when she would kick the side to wake him in attempt to reprimand him…which never really worked…

"Why?" he asked, sounding like an annoying small child, "Why would you move my couch? You never have a reason to," the annoying small child was gone, replaced by the annoying adult, almost just as irritating. Almost.

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest, "Because, the cleaning crew wanted to be able to clean underneath the couch since Rigsby dropped that bag of chips down there," Jane turned back around to Rigsby, who now refused to make eye contact with him

"You ate on my couch?"

"It was hot outside and I wanted to lie down, I didn't know it would be a crime!" he said in his defense, mouth almost stuttering to conjure up an excuse to pacify the blond man before him, "I had no idea that my phone would go off and scare me! That's all!"

"How disappointing," Jane turned towards Grace, "And you didn't tell me either?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I wasn't here, interrogating the suspect when it happened."

"You're still an accessory."

"Jane…"

Jane turned back towards Lisbon, whose head was now cocked to the side, "You are also an accessory to this! You touched my couch! I feel like I have been betrayed by you people," he paused, "This place is filled with a whole bunch of law-followers and yet no one tells me what this," he pointed over at Rigsby, turning his head to gaze at him, "man did?"

No one said anything.

"Unbelievable."

With that, Jane turned to leave, exiting the bullpen and brushing past Lisbon. She looked after him, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. She turned to leave, to retreat back to her own office as Cho came down the corridor, glancing back at a still-peeved Jane.

"Found out about the couch?"

Rigsby nodded, "Yes, now he hates me," he sulked, heading back to his own desk as Cho entered the bullpen, glancing over at the leather couch sitting underneath the window, "I don't see why though, it was just a little mistake."

Cho shook his head, walking over towards the couch and pausing right in front of it. He brought his leg up, forcefully kicking it and knocking it back into a more 'suitable' place to calm the slightly…livid mentalist currently roaming the halls about ready to explode to anyone who would ask. Cho glanced back up, eyes catching the faces of both Rigsby and Van Pelt.

"There, all fixed."