Drabble Genre: Flirtatious Nonsense

Characters: Lisbon/Jane; Risby/van Pelt

"Where is Jane?" Lisbon asked, obviously worried. Every morning for the past three months, she had come in to find Jane asleep on his favorite leather couch-but not yesterday, or the day before, and this morning was the last straw. She simply had to know where he was.

"He took a leave of absence," van Pelt replied, looking up momentarily from her computer screen. "He said something about it being 'the right time' and it 'had been coming for a while.'" And Grace, to Lisbon, seemed unconcerned. Too unconcerned; it was a forced demeanor, she was certain.

"There's something you're not telling me," Lisbon accused, putting her hands on her hips and sweeping her jacket behind her. The redhead's eyes flashed back to the screen too quickly.

"He's alright, I swear. That is exactly what he told me. I'm not lying," she babbled, grabbing a pen and tapping it nervously on her desk.

"Withholding information is the same as lying, in my book," Lisbon said, but the corner of her mouth quirked up; she didn't want van Pelt to think she was angry with her. Truthfully, she was hurt that Jane would confide in Grace-which he obviously had-and not herself. Weren't they closer than that?

Rigsby came into the bullpen at exactly that moment, carrying a cup of coffee and a donut with a big bite taken out of it. The two women gave him stern looks.

"Would've brough' you guys some," he said around a mouthful, "bu' I wa' run-nig late."

"That's fine, Rigsby. I'm not hungry. Have you heard anything from Jane?"

"Not since he took off a few days ago. He seemed fine when he left, though," he added, after seeing Lisbon's worried look. Being a sucker for women with that expression on their faces, Rigsby brightened up at a sudden thought. "Cho knows where he is! We'll ask him."

In the farthest corner of Lisbon's mind, she registered an enraged glare thrown in Rigsby's direction. It had originated from van Pelt's widened eyes. He was oblivious to her scrutiny, and when Lisbon turned to face the red haired woman, her expression immediately rearranged into a forced, hard smile. Spending enough time around Patrick Jane had taught Lisbon two things: one, when someone smiled like that, they had something to hide, and two...two...it was really infuriating to deal with having feelings for a man who could read your mind.

Lisbon then realized something else, which deflated her entire soul.

"Cho is on vacation with his girlfriend. He left yesterday. And I couldn't possibly disturb them..." she trailed off, taking in both van Pelt and Rigsby's faces.

"Yes, you could," Rigsby said, taking another big bite.

"No, you couldn't!" Grace exclaimed, incredulous. "That would be-so-rude. I mean, wouldn't it, Wayne? That would be so...mean...it would surely detract from their experience, right? Right, Wayne?"

" Owh...yeah. Righ' Grace. Would ruin their day. They wanna be alone," he said slowly, trying to chew while taking cues from Grace. Lisbon rolled her eyes.

"You two are blindingly obvious. Just tell me where Jane is. As his superior, it is my right to know, especially if you do."

Lisbon hated to use her status as Senior Agent to get what she wanted from her team (when it had nothing to do with a case) but when it came to Jane's whereabouts, she was quickly discovering that her determination had no boundaries. She needed to know.

The elevator arrived with a ding! and Lisbon, out of habit, turned to see who it was.

Jane stood there, one hand resting at his side and the other behind his back. Lisbon hated the blush that crept up her neck and into her face, hated the butterflies that filled her stomach, the relief that nearly knocked her backward, the difficulty with which she held herself back from tackling him with a tight embrace. Well, maybe she didn't hate it, but she knew it was terribly inappropriate. And Teresa Lisbon never did anything inappropriate.

There was a silence, and then Rigsby pointed and said, quite anticlimactically, "There he is!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Grace mumbled, a barely concealed smile stretching her lips.

Jane stepped off the elevator and was in front of Lisbon in moments. He nodded to Rigsby and van Pelt, smiling peculiarly. Lisbon crossed her arms and waited.

"I know you're wondering where I've been," Jane said, sounding repentant, "but I have an excellent explanation."

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" Lisbon said, and then realized she sounded like she was whining. That would not do. "I am your superior, you know. You can't just take off without notifying me."

"I notified Hightower," Jane said smugly.

Lisbon gaped.

"And Grace-and Wayne and Cho and that new secretary, and her nephew; he was visiting for the day-"

"So why couldn't you tell me where you were going? Did you forget about me?" Whining again. Oh, to hell with it.

"No, I just didn't think you'd mind hearing it secondhand...was it that big a deal?" And Lisbon became so infuriated at his teasing smile that she clenched her hands into fists to avoid decking him.

"You're-such an idiot! The next time you just take off like that, you're fired!"

"Ah, but it's not exactly your decision whether I'm fired or not, is it?" he said, and it could have been her imagination, but she thought he inched closer to her.

Something else caught her attention.

"What do you have behind your back?"

"A hippopotamus."

"Seriously, Jane," she said, holding her hand out. She didn't know why she did it, but she did.

"Okay, okay. I guess the fun has to come to an end some time."

It took a minute for her to register what he had placed into her hand. Two airline tickets, for a plane that left in a few hours, a plane that was headed to-

"Paris?" Lisbon asked, her voice sounding for all the world like a little girl's. "Paris?"

"Uhh, unless they changed the name," he said, tipping the ticket down so he could read it, "and look at that! They haven't! Still Paris. That is where you've wanted to go ever since you were...I'd say...fifteen? Am I right?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, not surprised by his uncanny ability to know everything anymore. "But why? And where have you been gone so long?"

"I've been arranging this. I told Grace and Rigsby and Cho-and Hightower-so that they'd know where you were going, and to get permission for you to have a few weeks off. I also needed a couple of days to pack your suitcase; you'd notice immediately if everything disappeared all at once. You need better locks, by the way. Anywho, Hightower said you definitely deserved a vacation. Van Pelt thinks it's romantic, Rigsby thinks we're going to have a torrid love affair-and I couldn't tell what Cho thought about it-just stared at me. Like a zombie. Creeped me out."

"Jane...I...don't know what to say."

He stepped forward and took her hand. Van Pelt swooned. Rigsby swallowed his donut.

"Well, it would be very rude to turn me down. The tickets are non-refundable. And so is the hotel room, and the rental car...why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, but he already knew.

With tears in her eyes and two open-ended tickets to Paris in her hand, Teresa Lisbon collapsed in Patrick Jane's arms, smiling and giggling and entirely unlike herself.

Jane grinned wider. Rigsby even smiled a little, too. Grace's eyes were filled to the brim with tears of joy.

Before he could stop himself, Jane had kissed Lisbon's cheek, a little too close to her lips. She looked up at him, all thoughts of Paris forgotten.

"You...uh..."

"I'm-I apologize, Lisbon-Teresa-Lis-"

She kissed him, his lips meshing against hers, so soft and delicious, strawberry-flavored half-melted goodness filling her mouth. His hands were on her face; her fingers tangled in his blond, curly hair.

"Ahem," Grace coughed.

Rigsby gaped. That was all. He lacked the brainpower to do much else.

Lisbon pulled away, still holding Jane's hand.

"Let's go," she said breathlessly.

Jane nodded his disheveled head and followed her to the elevator.

Van Pelt looked at Rigsby, and he curiously returned her gaze.

"Do you think they'll-"

"-Absolutely."

"Do you think he'll-"

"-Without a doubt."

"..."

"..."

"Well, it's about time."

Please review. I get a little disheartened sometimes-and today is one of those days. So, do me a favor? Thanks!