'Hangs up her coat like always/ wouldn't have it any other way'
Jane was laying on his couch when Lisbon arrived, moving swiftly past him without a word. He sat up, thinking that perhaps she hadn't noticed him - or more likely that she was ignoring him - only to catch sight of her entering her office and giving her coat rack just as cold a blow-off.
Jane knew then that something was wrong: Lisbon always hung up her jacket, even if she knew they would be leaving quickly… it was an integral part of her morning routine. They all had one - Van Pelt fixed her coffee just right; Cho finished a chapter in his current novel; Rigsby turned any leftovers in their fridge into a second breakfast; and Jane always lay on his sofa, taking all of it in.
Of course, he always liked to take a break from that activity to toy with the others, and he prided himself on his track record when it came to most members of the team. He'd once had Grace so riled she'd skipped adding cream to her coffee and had taken it black to avoid spending any more time near him; had once engaged Cho in conversation until Lisbon had started their morning briefing, effectively preventing him from reading and earning a scowl; his favourite had been the time he had removed every bit of food from the fridge before Rigsby had gotten there. The dirty look the agent had graced the empty fridge with had been priceless.
He had yet, however, to break Lisbon's routine. He had tried to dissuade her path to her office and fluster her; had moved the coat rack to various places both inside and out of her area; he had even gone as far as to turn up the air conditioning in her office, but all to no avail. She was like a train on its tracks when it came to that damn rack.
But she had just jumped off of those rails on her own, and Patrick Jane wanted to know why.
He shadowed the path she'd taken to her office, leaning on the doorjamb and flashing her his brightest smile, 'What's up, Lisbon?'
She looked up at him with a glower, "What Jane?'"
He raised his eyebrows but kept up his grin, "Just wondering what has you so cheery this morning."
He could swear that she actually growled at him, "Someone, Jane, decided to try and drive Van Pelt's decidedly large car into mine. And because of that I had to walk home last night and then into work this morning in this stupid cold snap."
He blinked in surprise; apparently she hadn't known about her car before she had left the previous night, all pleased that he could see again. Whoops. But really, how could he have known whose cars he had hit; he had been blind at the time. You'd think she would be a tad more understanding, really.
"I'd have given you a ride, you know."
He'd have been a smoldering pile of ash if looks could kill.
"Your phone was off."
"Ah. Would you like me to hang your coat up for you?" she shot him a look as cold as ice, "Well then... I'd best be going," and he scurried out of the room, letting her think that she had scared him out.
But as soon as his back was turned his smile returned... he had finally shaken her out of her steadfast routine, albeit a little indirectly.
Victory, he thought, as he gave a wary Cho a high-five and prepared Grace's coffee for her.
--
The rest of the day, however, was exactly the opposite of a victory for Jane. He managed to get punched in the nose three times; to be wrong on two pivotal points in the case; and worst of all, Lisbon hadn't given the tiniest flicker of sympathy in his direction.
Even the time his nose had bled, no matter how much he had pouted in her direction, she had remained stoic… and that was when he was positive that karma was getting at him. By the end of the day he had a plan… not that he had much of a choice in the matter.
--
The next morning Jane was sitting up on his couch, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his boss. She came in, and he stood up to follow her as she passed, stopping in her doorway and watching as she moved to sit in her chair.
"Yes Jane?"
He gave her a grin, "Your coat?"
She raised an eyebrow at him.
He held out a hand to her, palm up, and elaborated, "Want me to hang up your coat for you?"
"Why?"
"Well, it's really awfully warm in here."
"Says the guy in the three piece suit."
He cleared his throat and gave her a bit of a sheepish grin, "Well, you know… please?"
She frowned, reaching up to unbutton her jacket, "Sure, Jane, whatever."
He almost leapt forward in his haste to grab the garment, before carefully positioning it on the rack, much to her amusement.
"Well, there we are," Jane turned back to her, "And, of course, good morning, Lisbon; I'll see you at the briefing.'
She gave him a confused look, a smirk still firmly gracing her lips, watching him walk out the door past the now-adorned coat rack.
--
Jane lay down along his couch with a contented sigh; today would be good, he was sure. There was no way he'd mess with Lisbon's morning routine again.
A growl of surprise and frustration echoed from the kitchen.
Rigsby, on the other hand, was a completely different matter.
There, chapter two done! Three is mostly completed too, but I figured that I would get something a little happier up before I post it, because it's oh-so-angsty. Hope that you enjoyed this one; the support and reviews I've gotten thus far have been great! And I agree with those who commented on traditional songfics… they can be really, really cheesy, haha. Really, though, thanks for liking the idea; I didn't mean to come down hard last chapter, I just don't want anyone to take the lyrics the wrong way and have this deleted. I changed up the dialogue markers this time; last time was just me being lazy and avoiding the shift key. Oh, and I've decided that every chapter will be named after the song I used, just for ease of remembering what chapter was what (though I'm sure some songs will be used more than once).
Thanks again! Love, Moksgmol
Lyrics from:
Thriving Ivory. (2003). Secret Life. Thriving Ivory (CD). Wind-up Records.
