Author's Note: Okay, I came up with two stories, but after writing them I realized they were too similar in basic content to post separately so I'm posting them together as a way to find out which one you all like better. They're both about Jane taking care of Lisbon, which is a bit of a switch from what we usually see on The Mentalist.

Pitchykin

Of all the strange things that could happen on a case this had to be one of the weirdest.

Seriously, driving home a drugged Lisbon was not at all how Jane had pictured his evening going.

He personally thought she should still be in the hospital, but they'd said since she hadn't actually ingested anything that the drug would have to wear off naturally. She could've stayed the night for observation if she'd wished, but Lisbon had wanted to go home, which they said she could only do with supervision.

So that's why he was now trying to help his partner stay upright while they made their way to her front door.

When they, finally, got there Lisbon fished out her keys.

"Here, let me help you with that," he offered.

"No, I can do it by myself," she answered petulantly. Sort of the way a child would if their parent tried to help them with something the kid thought they could do on their own. But, as is the case in many of those situations, it turned out Lisbon couldn't do it by herself. She dropped the keys after her first attempt.

Jane sighed while shaking his head at her.

"I told you Lisbon, you should've let me help you."

With some maneuvering he was able to reach the fallen keys and at the same time keep a hand on Lisbon's arm to prevent her from toppling.

She reached for the keys again but Jane lightly smacked her hand away.

"No you don't. I'm doing it this time," he said sternly.

She twisted her expression into one of seriousness and gave him a mock salute.

This must be what inebriated Lisbon is like, Jane thought.

He shook his head at her again, but this time the movement was accompanied with a smirk.

Releasing the doors lock he opened it and said, "Okay private, let's get you inside."

An indignant and insulted look formed on her face.

"Who are you callin' a private buster," she demanded as she poked his chest with one finger. "I am a lieutenant."

Jane took hold of the hand whose finger was assaulting him and turned her bodily toward the open door.

"Alright lieutenant, let's get you inside. Okay?"

"'Kay," she agreed, her head nodding like one of those bobble head dolls.

With the consultant's help she avoided tripping over the doorstep as she trudged into her house.

Once inside Jane sat her down on a nearby chair and turned away to shut and lock her door. When he turned back to help Lisbon he found that she had vacated the seat and was making her wobbly way to the stairs.

Oh no, not the stairs.

"Uh, Lisbon?" he asked as he rushed forward to steady her. "Maybe we should stay down here for a while, huh?"

"I wanna go to bed," she answered trying to pull away from him.

Jane could tell that this was a point on which she was going to be stubborn, and he really wasn't in the mood to fight with her about it.

Great, stairs it was then.

"Alright fine, but we go slowly. The last thing we need right now are a couple of broken necks."

"Mmkay," she complied.

Taking hold of both her arms from behind Jane steered her in the right direction. When they got to the first step he tightened his grip on her.

"Now you need to step up. Can you do that for me?"

"Mmhm," she affirmed.

"Good."

They continued up the steps at a snails pace with Jane giving Lisbon step by step vocal instruction until they reached the top some five minutes later.

Jane found the process a little aggravating, however, the ascent was made somewhat funny by Lisbon asking every couple steps, "Are we there yet?"

Having now conquered their figurative Mt. Everest Jane guided her through her hallway to the door at the end which he presumed was her bedroom's.

On the way he spotted a bathroom and heaved a sigh of relief. At least they wouldn't have to contend with the stairs again tonight.

Jane swung the bedroom door open and saw that it was indeed Lisbon's room. It was neat and tidy and didn't have the look of being lived in at all.

Lisbon attempted to pull away from him again and this time succeeded. She took the few feet between the door and her bed with quick, shaky steps and dropped herself face first down onto the mattress.

Jane followed her, moving to the right side of the bed where her head was. He knelt down and brushed her now messy hair from her face.

Suddenly Lisbon turned to her side, grabbed his hand, placed it on her forehead, closed her eyes, and murmured, "That's better."

Jane deduced from the feel of her overly warm skin that she was running a bit of a temperature. He didn't worry too much though; the doctor had said it was likely she would have a slight fever.

Coincidentally the hand Lisbon had appropriated was his left one and when her fingers unexpectedly began toying with his wedding band Jane felt his breathe hitch.

It felt funny, but he didn't stop her. She wasn't hurting anything really.

Then she opened her eyes slowly and looked at him in the dim light (he hadn't thought to turn on the lights). Her green eyes were sad and serious.

"I envy you sometimes," she said quietly.

That threw him for a loop. Who in their right mind would envy him?

"Oh, why is that?" he questioned with genuine curiosity.

"Because you know what it's like."

"What what's like?" he asked, though he could make a good guess what she was talking about.

"Being married…having a baby," she answered softly. "I'm never gonna have a baby…probably."

Jane's heart broke a little at the expression on her face. Such sorrow, regret, and wistfulness.

But before he had any real amount of time to ruminate on her words he was in-taking a sharp breath and attempting to keep Lisbon from rolling off the end of the bed.

After he had successfully stopped her from inflicting bodily harm on herself he brought his hand to the back of her neck to turn her face toward his and looked at her closely.

"You okay?"

"Mhmm, keeny peach."

Jane smiled, amused at her blunder.

"Don't you mean peachy keen?"

"That's what I said," she insisted, "pitchykin."

She paused for a moment and Jane tried not to laugh at the confused look on her face. She got it after a few seconds and broke into a grin, then giggled and turned her face into the plush afghan at the foot of her bed in an attempt to mute her laughter. Jane joined in with a light chuckle then waited for her merriment to subside.

When it did Lisbon turned her face back to his and stared intently at him.

Jane tried not to feel uncomfortable, but it was as if she was looking into his very soul.

"Has anyone ever told you you're handsome?"

Well, maybe not quite to his soul.

The drug must have affected her memory too, because she already knew the answer to her question. Be that as it may Jane humored her.

"A few people."

"Mm, I like the lines on your face. They tell a story."

That was a strange kind of compliment.

"Oh they do, do they?" he urged her to continue.

"Uhuh, these ones," she reached out with her forefinger and laid it's tip against the corner of one of his eyes, "are happy lines. And these," she transferred her finger to the space between his eyes and Jane felt his slight frown ease under her gentle touch, "are sad." She ran her finger down his face until she reached the corner of his mouth then swept the soft pad of said digit along the seam of his lips to the opposite side of his mouth. Jane swallowed roughly at the sensation of her touch against the sensitive skin. "And these," she continued, "are happy and sad." She took her finger away. Jane immediately missed it.

"You're happily sad…or sadly happy. I'm not sure yet."

For being a nonsensical and rather gloomy observation it was, for some strange reason that he couldn't explain, kind of astute.

"Well I hope you figure out an answer for your conundrum."

Lisbon tried to, unsuccessfully, mimic the word.

"Condru…conunnun…conu…"

She ceased in her efforts and Jane saw with concern that she looked like she was going to be sick. He should've been expecting it, the doctor had warned him about this too.

"I'm feelin' a little woozy," she slurred. "I think I need the trash can."

Jane looked around quickly for the requested item and upon locating it brought it over to the side of the bed.

He got it to her just in time. The next moment she was leaning over the edge of the bed lurching into the bin.

Lisbon hadn't bothered to pull her hair back so Jane scrambled up beside her onto the mattress and held her hair back with one hand while rubbing her back comfortingly with the other.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're going to be fine," he soothed.

She didn't have much in her stomach so the vomiting didn't last long and after a couple of residual dry heaves she pulled back, turned over on her back, and looked up at Jane.

"Am I drunk?" she asked him dazedly.

"No, you were drugged," he answered, but it didn't seem to register with her.

"I don't like drunks. They hurt people." A terrified look came over her face. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jane started shaking his head, "No, no sweetie. I know you'd never hurt me."

But his words did nothing to placate her. She scrambled away from him and off the bed, then rushed dangerously down the hall to the restroom.

By the time Jane caught up with her she was sitting on the bathroom floor, her knees curled up to her chest as she rocked back and forth in a self-comforting motion.

He knelt down next to her but decided it might not be a good idea to touch her and just waited until she raised her bent head to face him.

There were unshed tears glistening in her eyes and he yearned to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything was all right, but he wasn't sure if he should.

"I don't hurt you do I?"

Her tone was so insecure sounding.

"No, no of course you don't sweetheart."

Lisbon sniffed a little and gave him a weak smile. Then, unfolding herself from her enveloped position, she stood shakily and grabbed her toothbrush out of its holder.

"I need to brush my teeth. My breath smells like yuck."

Jane raised himself from his place on the floor and placed his hands around her waist in an attempt to steady her swaying form.

She pushed at his hands in frustration.

"No, I can stand by myself," she insisted.

"I know honey, but I'm just going to leave my hands here like this just in case. Okay?"

She stopped struggling against him and shrugged.

"Okay."

With Jane's help she got the toothpaste on the brush and cleaned her teeth. Much to his amusement she hummed Peg O' My Heart the whole time she was brushing. Not too badly either, she had a nice mellow sound. When the task of brushing was complete she took out, from one of the sink cabinet drawers, and elastic band and did her hair up in a very messy bun. Then she washed her face.

With her nightly routine now completed they moved back to her bedroom and he sat her down on the bed.

"Where's my pajamas?" she asked. "I need my pajamas."

Oh dear, he hadn't thought about this part of beddy-bye-time. Nevertheless he searched for her nightclothes until he found them under a jacket on a chair in one corner of her room.

"Here they are," he announced handing them to her.

"Thanks," she replied gratefully as she stood.

She was less wobbly now. Maybe the drug was starting to wear off.

"No problem."

She started to unbutton her top and Jane froze.

Oh dear.

But she paused mid-button and made a vigorous turn-around motion with her hand.

Oh thank goodness, he thought with relief. At least the drug hadn't robbed her of her sense of modesty. Although, if she happened to need help it would be unkind of him not to, so with his back still toward her he said, "You tell me if you need any help alright?"

"Shhh," she shushed him. "Don't talk to me while I'm changing."

"Sorry," he answered back to her odd request.

"S'okay."

She sounded sleepy. She'd probably be out of it soon.

Several minutes and numerous struggling-with-clothing sounds later Jane felt a light tap on the back of his shoulder.

"Hey, I can't make the bunny go through the hole," she whispered.

He turned around and, not being sure why she was whispering, whispered back, "That's alright, I'll help you."

The bunny-going-through-the-hole she was talking about were the strings on her sweatpants.

Jane pushed her tank top out of the way, took hold of the two ties ends, and tied the ribbon for her.

"There, how's that?"

Instead of the expected 'fine' he received a very unexpected kiss on his cheek.

When Lisbon pulled back from her appreciative smooch she proclaimed, "You're sweet."

Not knowing quite what do to with this never-before-seen affectionate Lisbon he replied with the first thing to pop into his head.

"You too."

"Really?" she sounded pleased at his admission.

"Mmhm," he affirmed again.

Her expression turned a little bashful. Jane thought it was cute.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome."

Turning away from him she took her clothes, folded them neatly, and deposited them on the same chair Jane had found her pajamas. Then with this accomplished she crawled up onto the bed and laid down.

"Don't you think you'd be more comfortable under the covers?" Jane asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed sleepily, but made no move to do so.

Jane came close and maneuvered her until he was able to free the bed sheets beneath her, then tucked her in snuggly.

Just as he was about to move away she reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Can you stay?" she requested.

Jane hesitated. The woman was under the influence of a drug. He felt a bit like he'd be taking advantage.

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?" she pleaded.

At her childish begging he relented.

"Alright," he capitulated. Then he spotted the trash bin next to the bed. "But first I need to take care of this."

"M'kay."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

After he'd finished cleaning up the mess he returned to the bedroom.

Without a word Lisbon scooted to one side so he would have more room and lifted the covers in a silent invitation.

Jane toed off his shoes and laid down next to her warily. He still wasn't really sure about this, but as soon as he was settled Lisbon cuddled up to him and then he really, really wasn't sure about this.

However, when his bed partner let out a contented sigh he decided the situation wasn't so bad and tried to make himself relax. Although honestly, he had no idea what was going to happen in the morning. He fervently hoped she wouldn't punch him out of cop reflex if she woke up in the middle of the night and realized a man was in bed with her.

Lisbon tucked her head into the nook between his chin and shoulder and planted a warm peck on the side of his neck.

"Night P.J."

For a moment Jane didn't know if she was talking to him or not being that he'd been distracted by yet another of her impromptu kisses, but the second his wits returned to him he answered her with something he thought might be appropriate.

"Goodnight Tessie."

"Mum," she whispered softly.

"What?"

"My mum," she explained. "She used to call me that."

Idiot, Jane reprimanded himself silently. You couldn't have thought of some other nickname.

"I miss her."

He felt something wet land on his neck and realized Lisbon was crying. Bringing his hand up to her hair he soothed her gently.

"I know you do babygirl, I know you do."

He wasn't altogether sure why he was using all these endearments, but for some reason, in this situation, it felt right.

"Is it gonna be pitchykin soon?" she murmured.

"Yeah it is, it's going to be 'pitchykin' soon," he answered, hoping he was telling the truth.