A/N: Disclaimer - I do not own the Mentalist.

Having got that out of the way, I would like to mention two things: One, I have never been on a date, so I apologize if this or any other chapter seems stilted; two, I am not very good at writing from a man's perspective, so I hope Pike doesn't sound too much like the teenage girl I am.

Also, Jane will not appear in this story until the epilogue. Why, you ask? Well, if I tried to put Jane's thoughts into words, then, as Cho puts it, "my brain would explode." I hope you give this a chance anyway.

Pike was relating a case from earlier in the month – a stolen Monet. The story was actually rather funny. The museum curator hadn't noticed that the replacement painting was fake; he had completely overlooked some blatantly wrong brushwork patterns. Or something like that. Lisbon wasn't sure. She couldn't for the life of her concentrate on the story. She was thinking about Jane sitting alone on his couch. Why was this bothering her so much? He had chosen – entirely of his own volition – to stay behind. Still, she felt bad that he had been the one to solve the case, yet he was the only one alone tonight. Why was it that she hadn't wanted him along, exactly? Looking across at Pike now, she couldn't remember.

She realized with a small start that he was looking at her expectantly. He had wrapped up his story and she hadn't even noticed that he'd stopped talking. She cranked her smile up a couple notches and swore inwardly. Any normal woman would be enjoying this small break from the complicated mess that was her life. What was wrong with her? Well, she knew the answer to that one. She was in love with Jane, and he didn't appear to reciprocate.

Across the table, Pike was looking slightly puzzled. Lisbon blushed and cast her eyes down to her lap. She couldn't do this; she didn't want to. It really wasn't fair to him. Right now all it was was pancakes but he was obviously going to expect it to go somewhere. She would have to make it clear that this was nothing more than a light flirtation.

Pike smiled at her cautiously. "So what do you think of the pancakes? I told you they were good, huh?"

He looked so happy, so... hopeful, that Lisbon instantly felt disgusted with herself for having led him on so much. Then, because she hated hating herself, and because she'd been rather wrought up all evening, she blurted out exactly what was on her mind.

"You know, Marcus, this is fun, but I don't want you to get your hopes up," she said apologetically. "It'll never get serious between us."

Wow, she thought. Very smooth. Yeesh. Mentally she slapped her forehead. Luckily Pike was far too much of a gentleman to make any sort of comment on her delivery.

"You mean there's something with you and Jane," he said instead, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Lisbon sighed and propped her forehead on her fist. What had happened to her nice, easy, care-free date? Oh that's right, she'd single-handedly ruined it. Irretrievably. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say, thought Lisbon. She looked up at Pike, suddenly tired.

"Actually, no," she answered him, though he'd phrased it as a statement.

He nodded. "So Wiley was right, then: you two aren't together." It was a question.

She was rather touched that he'd tried to find out if she was available. Too bad he couldn't have known that she was such an emotional wreck.

"I wish we were," she confessed bravely.

Pike looked at her sympathetically for a few minutes, then his eyes lit up. He seemed to be struggling not to let a huge smile spread across his face. Lisbon stared at him.

"I've got a plan." He leaned forward conspiratorily, the twinkle in his eye betraying a mind that revelled in devilish plots. Lisbon was once again taken aback. Although now she at least understood why Pike had wanted Jane's help, without being put off by the mountain of paperwork that inevitably accompanied it.

Having assured her complete attention, Pike elaborated. "You say he loves you, right?"

Lisbon reflected sardonically that she should, by this point, have gotten used to being blindsided by the mind-bloggling turns this conversation was constantly taking. And how in heaven's name should she answer? The question had been off-hand, but the answer was anything but.

She'd spent so many nights obsessing over that very question, deciding one way one night only to reverse her decision the next. Well, this entire evening had taken on an unshakeable air of unreality. Why not run with it, she thought. She looked Pike in the eye.

"Yes," she declared brazenly, resolutely pushing away all her uncertainties.

"Okay," he said. "So, let's pretend to be in a relationship. Get him jealous, force him to say something."

Lisbon was blown away by the simple brilliance of his plan. In these first heady moments she could even believe that the two of them would be able to pull it off. They were going to trick a trickster; they were going to pull a con on Patrick Jane.

"Let's do it!" she breathed.

Pike looked like a boy who has just discovered the world is made of chocolate. She could feel herself getting swept up in his enthusiasm.

"I think we'll need another round of pancakes to keep us going through the strategy session I feel coming on," Lisbon said.

Pike grinned appreciatively. Lisbon signalled the waitress.

An hour later they had set out a few plans of action. Nothing really special but Lisbon was truly enjoying herself for the first time in a long time.

"So tomorrow," Pike was saying, "you should take a cab to work.

Or would that be out of character...?"

He looked adorably worried. Lisbon was amused. Did he think he was casting aspersions on her character?

"No," she hastened to assure him. "I like the idea. Keep him guessing." An idea struck her.

"I'll say my car wouldn't start and he'll know I'm lying."

They grinned at each other. Then Pike looked at his watch reluctantly.

"I hate to be the one to break it up," he said, "but I really should get going."

"Yeah, me too," said Lisbon, realizing how late it was for the first time.

Pike drove her home and waited until she was safely inside before leaving.

Lisbon got ready for bed and fell asleep smiling. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so in control of her life.

A/N: You're probably bored with my author's notes, but I just want to know if anyone caught my Roald Dahl reference...