A/N: Wow... okay, so this was a really nice surprise- I can honestly say I didn't expect such a response for a new kid on your playground. You guys in this community are all about the sweet, supportive reviews, huh? I know it's trite, but I just wanted to say thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!
Hugs,
MBA
PS- I probably need a disclaimer. Here we go- I don't own the Mentalist, the characters, or Simon Baker. I'll have to console myself with the fact that my son has curly blond hair.
The squad room was awash in bright fluorescent light, in stark contrast to the sky outside. Three in the morning on a Saturday was a hellish time to be at work and unusual even for the CBI, but criminals didn't always have the courtesy of keeping to a nine-to-five weekday schedule. Lisbon sighed and ran a hand through her hair, making a face as she realized it had been almost twenty-four hours since her last shower. She assumed she smelled half as bad as she felt and looked twice as terrible. Fatigue was hell on pale skin. "How's Rigsby?" she asked, pushing open her office door.
Van Pelt hovered around the big man at his desk, pressing a cold compress to one side of his head as he held another to his eye. "Doing okay," she called over her shoulder. "The eye shouldn't bruise up, but I think he might have a concussion."
"Do not," Rigsby retorted, though his words were slightly slurred. Lisbon wondered again why she'd let him get away with waving off the medic at the scene.
Jane was, as Lisbon had suspected he would be, stretched out on the cracked leather couch he'd virtually claimed when he'd first been assigned to her team. Even though his eyes were closed, he held up a hand to give her a thumbs-up. "Van Pelt is doing a wonderful impression of a nurse." His tousled head popped up momentarily, just long enough for him to catch her gaze. "And I concur- he's showing several concussion-related symptoms."
Cho came in from the opposite corridor. "Perp is finally here from Processing. I had him put in Interrogation One, boss." He looked at her expectantly, the file they'd built on the man already tucked under his arm.
Lisbon surveyed her team, feeling her lips pull into a smile. She'd found that her sense of humor was decidedly more twisted when she was sleep-deprived. "Van Pelt- you'll be taking lead on this interrogation. Jane and I will watch from Observation, but he's all yours. Cho- get Rigsby to the hospital, and don't let him talk you out of it." The team goggled at her in unison and she had to fight the urge to laugh.
"But-" Cho stared at her in disbelief.
"Really?" Van Pelt had turned to face her in delight, the compress dangling at her side forgotten.
Rigsby looked more woebegone at the assignments than anyone. He'd apparently been looking forward to more nursing from Van Pelt. "I'm fine," he said, the whine in his voice pronounced enough to make Lisbon's smile grow just a little bigger. "I don't need to go to the hospital."
She leveled a flat stare at him. "Tough. You're going, and that's an order, Rigsby." With a sweep of her hands, she prodded them all into motion. "Come on, you guys, the faster you move, the faster you get home and into bed."
The bustle of the next few minutes and the steaming mug of coffee she'd begged off Watkins over in the Vice department pushed the fuzzy weariness to the back of her brain. Van Pelt had caught a second wind as well, speedily flipping through the file Cho had grudgingly given up as he shoved a grumbling Rigsby towards the exit. Jane was still laid out on his couch. Sipping her coffee with relish, Lisbon sauntered over and gave the frame a good shove with her foot.
"Is Van Pelt ready?" Jane asked without opening his eyes. "I thought she'd be at least another few minutes. She's afraid she's missed some critical piece of information in the file that will mess up her interrogation."
Despite the annoying accuracy of his comment, Lisbon smiled. She knew he was right. "No, she's still reading, but we're telling her that she's got five minutes to get into Interrogation." When he didn't move immediately, she nudged the cushion under him. "C'mon, Jane, I mean it. Get up."
With a yawn and a stretch that would have been ridiculously theatrical on anyone else, Jane finally swung his legs over the side and sat up, automatically reaching for the suit jacket that he'd thrown carelessly over the back.
"It wouldn't hurt for you to send that thing out to get pressed once in a while, you know," Lisbon observed dryly with another long pull of coffee. "Or the shirt- it's called starch. Check it out."
He smiled at her, his eyes absurdly merry for three in the morning. "Civil servant pay barely covers the water and electricity. I'm lucky I can even afford food."
She covered a laugh with a disbelieving snort. "Yeah, Jane, I'm on the same pay scale too, but you don't see me rolling in everyday in my nightgown, do you?"
"You own a nightgown?" He looked momentarily perplexed. "I didn't have you pegged as the nightgown type. You seem more like a woman that sleeps in a tee shirt two laundry cycles away from complete deterioration and a pair of shorts with Mickey Mouse on them."
Lisbon almost choked on her mouthful of coffee, though how he guessed what she slept in shouldn't have surprised her. The man was eerily insightful. "They don't have Mickey on them," she teased, turning away to give Van Pelt her five minute warning.
"Goofy?" he called after her, grinning. Lisbon seemed like the Disney sort. He'd wager she'd been to Disneyland more than a few times. "Minnie?"
---
They'd been in the observation room for a few minutes, watching the interrogation in silence. Lisbon nodded approvingly here and there as Van Pelt asked her questions and pushed the man on certain responses. She was doing great, and Lisbon had to fight to suppress a grin of pride, feeling certain Van Pelt had been ready for this step to solo interrogation for weeks now. It had been the right choice.
"She's doing well," Jane commented next to her, his eyes glued to the scene through the mirrored window. "She has an interesting approach that won't work for everyone, but the mix of sympathy and pressure should be effective with this guy. He's a little unstable mentally and should eat all that doe-eyed compassion right up."
Lisbon nodded. "I'll let her get her footing using her own style for a little while before I start teaching her how to vary method according to the suspect. I don't think she's ready for that step yet. God knows I'm still working on Cho to branch out a little, and Rigsby seems to think that being north of the 200 pound mark is technique."
Clucking his tongue, Jane shook his head in mock disapproval. "Mother Teresa won't let her babies grow up," he sighed with a slow smile. "Always the protective mama."
"Well, someone has to be," she retorted, immediately sorry she'd let her mouth get the best of her. Arguing with Jane always felt like she was just giving ammunition to the sniper that had his sights set on her. With him, it truly was a case of anything you say can and will be used against you. She turned determinedly back to the window.
Jane laid a hand on her elbow in the briefest of touches. "Oh, come on, she's doing fine. It won't kill you to talk to me for a second here." He eyed her, face serious. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable earlier during surveillance, Lisbon; I was just joking with you."
Oh God, she really didn't want to be having this conversation tonight or this morning or whatever the hell it was now, particularly with the psychologist's words still so fresh in her mind. Actually, she didn't want to ever have this discussion, but she at least needed time to process it all in her head. "Yeah, it's okay, Jane. I was just tired, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."
He looked at her, head cocked in consideration, for such a long time that he could actually see the faint color creep up her cheeks. Lisbon was blushing. "Why are you embarrassed?"
"I'm not embarrassed," she snapped, hiding behind her coffee mug. She wished suddenly for long hair like Van Pelt's, which would have made a much more effective screen than a stupid little coffee cup.
"You are so," he replied in delight. "You're blushing. Your cheeks are a nice rosy red and your neck is starting to mottle."
A hand flew automatically to her throat. "Stop it," she hissed, wrong-footed. It seemed like every time she wanted Jane to leave something alone, he jumped on it out of pure perversion. "Unit cohesion is important in our line of work, and it centers on appropriate respect between subordinates and superiors. Even though you're joking, others that hear it understand on some level that lines have been crossed."
He propped a hip on the windowsill and fully turned to consider her. "You know, I've always had a very difficult time leaving lines drawn in sand alone." His lips tipped up at the corners, the skin around his eyes crinkling in humor. "They're just so mutable."
"That's my point," Lisbon exclaimed, gesturing so wildly with her mug that coffee sloshed over the rim onto her hand. "You can't just go around erasing every line just because it's some childish compulsion. Some lines are there for a reason."
"And some are simply silly random marks meant for the lowest common denominator so that the sheep can feel they've imposed limits on the shepherds."
He produced a napkin for her, from where she didn't know, but she took it anyway with an automatic 'thanks'. Mopping up as best as she could, Lisbon silently thanked God that she was a firm believer in dark jackets. They covered absolutely everything, from mud to blood to coffee. She aimed at the trashcan across the room and launched the sodden mass, smiling in satisfaction as the napkin disappeared over the edge before turning to skewer Jane with a glare. "This is not a silly random line, Jane; this is how I run my team. I like having you on my team- you're a valuable asset and a decent guy, but if you keep chipping away at every rule I give you, I'm going to be history and so are you."
His golden eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You've been threatened by Minelli?" he asked, disbelief shining out of his blue eyes. "I always knew the man was a simpleton," he added in a mutter.
"Thank you. Your opinion on the matter changes everything," she shot back wryly. "The point is, I've been warned. You're getting out of hand, and instigating the catfight between the widow and her stepdaughter last week nearly got the both of us chucked. Minelli has made the rules very clear. You need to toe the line, Jane, or at least give me enough warning so that I can contain the damage."
His blue eyes were serious as he stared at her. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't know," he finally offered, seemingly at a loss for words. With sudden emotion, he added, "I'd never knowingly put you in jeopardy, Lisbon. I hope you know that."
The urge to reach out and pat his hand nearly overwhelmed her, but Lisbon swallowed it down. "I know, but I also know that the problem is that you don't always think. You go off half-cocked, always assuming that your way is the only way things can work out."
"I am never half-cocked," he defended indignantly. "I always think things out to the conclusion."
Lisbon quirked an eyebrow at him. "What about getting yourself locked in a burning barn with a man determined to chop you up?"
He bit his lip. "That was an aberration. Cho and Rigsby were supposed to be there."
Nodding, she added, "And when you got out-psyched by that psychic?"
Jane took an indignant step towards her. "I still say that charlatan was in on it!"
With a smile, Lisbon unleashed the attack she'd been holding in reserve. "Of course. But what about the time you ended up dangling from that balcony while the maid tried to beat you with a broom for breaking into her employer's house?"
He glared at her, though the pull of a self-deprecating smile at the corners of his mouth softened the expression. "That was Cho's fault, and you know it. I told him not to call my cell phone unless someone was dying. She'd have never known I was there if the phone hadn't rung."
Lisbon gave him her best pointed look. "And none of those incidents makes you think that it might be better to obey the very few rules I give you instead of plowing on like we're a bunch of drooling idiots you have to haul along in your wake?" She was facing him now, completely giving up on the attempt to appear as if she was also still monitoring the interrogation.
He pointed one finger at her. "I do not consider you an idiot, and neither are Cho, Rigsby or Van Pelt. I want to be very clear on this point, Lisbon." His eyes dropped for the briefest of instants. "But I will work on being more respectful and trying to include everyone in my plans."
That was a major step, she thought. "All right." She'd let this drop for now. There was only so far you could push Jane before he'd snap back out of obstinacy. "Look, Van Pelt's got him backed into a corner. He's exhibiting a number of confession signals."
"You're excited for her," Jane remarked, coming to stand at her shoulder. "It's a big thing the first time, isn't it?"
Lisbon smiled. Van Pelt would be over the moon when she absorbed all of this. "Yeah, firsts are always a big deal in everything, you know?"
"Milestones," he acknowledged with a flicker of a smile. "Birthdays, kisses, dates, anniversaries, deaths- they're always the markers you remember the longest."
Jane fell silent, and Lisbon knew he was thinking of his family. Despite the difficultly she had in offering physical support to people, she swallowed hard and pushed her own issues to the side. This was about him losing his entire world, not her discomfort with reaching out.
She stretched her fingers back and touched his hand for just a moment, just long enough to show that she understood.
A/N: Yay! More than one tiny moment of Jane/Lisbon interaction this time... but there's so much more to come. *rubs hands and practices evil laugh*
So I have to confess- I love UST. Love it. I fully intend to let them dance around each other for a little while, so if you're hoping for the smex in a chapter or two, I'm probably not the girl for you. But near misses and oozing sexuality? Yeah, I can do that. :)
What are you waiting for? Go on, make with the clicky click on the green button, please. Or I'll be forced to send Tamsin Dove after you.