A/N: I think the writers of The Mentalist should give Lisbon more credit in terms of knowing Jane and figureing stuff out, after all she is a very accomplished detective. And I know this story might give her too much credit but I still wanted to write it. I would be very interested in hearing your thoughts on my story or my point in general. The way i have the story planned at the moment is for there to be five chapters in total. Because of when I first got the idea, this would take place after Season 3 Episode 12 "Bloodhounds" - the episode with the lady that liked math too much and the couch. But before Season 3 Episode 13 "Red Alert". I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pretaining to The Mentalist except for my TV and laptop which I use to watch it

Chapter 1: The Haircut

Jane was lounging on the couch in the bullpen, eyes closed, ears open. Cho was already at his desk, reading a book – they had wrapped up the case yesterday and had yet to get a new one. Rigsby was getting some breakfast in the kitchen area, though Jane knew he had already had something at home. Grace was organizing her desk, something she often did when she had the time as it always seemed to become messy when they had a case.

He was just wondering when Lisbon would come into the bullpen—she had gotten in before the others and gone straight to her office—when he heard her familiar footsteps. "Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt," she greeted them all with a nod before turning, "Have you finished your report yet?" she asked crisply.

"Morning, boss. Yeah, here it is." Grace answered. So that must be who Lisbon was addressing. There was the sound of shuffling papers, "Oh, and nice haircut."

Jane had kept his eyes closed for the exchange so far, but once he heard Grace say that his eyes flew open and he sat up. He zoned in on the two women.

"Thanks," was Lisbon's reply, a light flush on her cheeks due to both her inability to receive compliments along with his reaction, eyes darting quickly at his sudden movement, before she left once more.

Jane stared at where she had been before laying back down on the couch, mind racing. Lisbon had indeed cut her hair—and not just a little. Her hair now was above her shoulders by a good inch or two, cut at a sort of angle, contrary to the fact that she had been letting it grow out for the past few weeks, few months.

He supposed some people wouldn't find it very significant but he was Patrick Jane. An abrupt change in Lisbon's appearance definitely deserved some consideration. Normally such actions were symbolic. What exactly it could symbolized varied though, as well as if they did so subconsciously or not. This symbolized something big, especially since Lisbon definitely did so consciously. While she may deny it if he asked and insist she just felt like it, he knew better—she never 'just felt' like anything.

Lisbon was a woman of purposeful action, never wasting a second or an action. No, this was important, he just didn't know how yet. Hm, what to do next? He wasn't sure if it was curiosity, boredom or concern that made him feel this way or perhaps it was a mixture of all three, but he had to find out what was going on. He needed to know.

He decided he would go visit her in her office, see if anything was different. He faked a yawn before getting off his couch to go and make some tea. Everything was better with tea. While two of the other team members were too busy, eating and organizing respectively, one pair of shrewd eyes followed his progress, no doubt realizing the true intent of his trip.

Sometimes Jane wondered just how much Cho assumed and how correct he was in those assumptions. However, he was glad it was Cho that noticed and neither of the others. Cho could keep a secret, not that being thrown off by Lisbon's haircut was a secret or anything, he quickly added. He went into the kitchen area and began making his tea with practiced familiarity.

He took his perfectly brewed cup and meandered over to her office. He gave a brief knock before coming in without waiting for a response. She didn't even look up as he shut the door after himself and sat down on the couch. He took a sip before setting the cup down on the plate and stretching out on the brand new couch.

She couldn't help but look over at him as he let out an exaggerated relaxed sigh and rolled her eyes. "Can I help you?"

He smiled broadly, "I just came in to enjoy your brand new couch. Isn't it great?"

She scowled, "I want my old couch back. It was perfectly fine, thank you very much."

His smile grew, "So, Van Pelt hasn't managed to find it yet?" She glared at him, "Let me save you the trouble my dear, you won't get it back."

"What did you do with my couch?" she asked, glare intensifying.

"I had it taken care of," was all he said, eyes twinkling, but since she didn't stop glaring, he sighed, "Fine, I donated it to a homeless shelter. I suppose you could go ask for it back but I'm not sure they or the homeless would appreciate it," he added, the end with an obvious gloating tone to it.

She scowled, he was right; she wouldn't take from homeless people. Then her face brightened and she smirked triumphantly, "I could just offer them the new one in exchange. Which, as you've pointed out, is so much bigger and better."

His smile faltered for a second, surprised and a bit proud of her for figuring out a good retort before pointing out the flaw in her plan, "But it's already been there for a week, who knows what's happened to it." Now it was she who faltered, "It could have been damaged or have food on it or other ...things."

And now she was back to scowling, "Damn it, Jane. Why did you have to get rid of my couch? I liked that couch."

"Because, dear Lisbon, it was old and uncomfortable. My feet stuck off the end." Jane complained, I mean explained.

She gave him a stern look, "That's because it wasn't meant to for you to lay on it. It was a couch for my office. It was my couch. I liked it just the way it was."

He could see that she meant it. Oh well, she'd see reason soon enough. He bought that couch not only for him but for her as well. She needed some comfort in her life, even if it was only from an, admittedly awesome, couch.

She could see that he firmly believed in what he did and didn't regret it at all. She sighed, Jane would always be Jane, she supposed. "If that's all, I'd like to get back to my paperwork. Work that, might I add, is mostly because of you."

She'd given up on trying to explain how she felt about the couch without giving away too much, she didn't need to hand him amunition and just about everything was in his hands. She knew a lost cause when she saw one and decided to simply move on and go back to teasing and admonishing him at the same time, a skill she'd nearly perfected.

"I can't take all the credit," he responded with false modesty. At the shrewd look she gave him he gave in, just a bit, "Though I suppose I can take some of the credit. Besides, we caught the guy, right?"

"Of course, and this was all necessary to do so," she mocked back, gesturing to the papers. Now, though, she noticed that look was in his eye, the mischievous twinkle that implied he was planning a new scheme or had a new trick up his sleeve. They weren't on a case and she had much too much work to even begin to try and figure out was he was up to now. All she could hope was that whoever ended up getting hurt wouldn't blame the CBI or herself.

"Exactly." He agreed and she rolled her eyes, "Glad we're on the same page." He took another sip of tea before discovering that it was now empty. "Hm, it appears I am out of tea," he informed her and her eyebrow arched in response, clearly asking why he was telling her this.

"I must go get some more then. Good day, my dear," he added with a slight mocking bob of the head before exiting her office.

She shook her head, leaning back over her paperwork before he stuck his head back in, "And, by the way, short hair does look lovely on you," he added, staying just long enough to see the surprised blush spread over her cheeks before ducking back out.

As he headed back to the kitchen, however, he did not pour himself a new cup of tea. Oh no, he had a plan now. While he had been unable to detect much from their conversation other than her strange attachment to her old couch, which was troubling in itself (both the attachment and the fact that he couldn't detect anything), he knew something had to be up.

And during their conversation he had come up with the perfect plan to figure it out. it seemed as though this would be one of the rare slow days and while the others enjoyed the break he often found them trying and boring. Besides all that was required was a quick stop at Lisbon's house, under the radar a.k.a. without her, or anyone else's for that matter, knowledge; the perfect cure for a boring day

A/N: There you go. Thank you for reading it and please send me your thoughts on it - the more people who say they like it that faster the next chapter will go up although I have to admit I'm not super fast with updating. I do however have a concrete plan and I would never ever abandon a story - my life is just really busy and stressful - don't blame me, blame everything else in my life. Anyway, review!

Sneak Peak: Next Chapter will be "Breaking and Entering"