A/N: This chapter was so much easier to write, thankfully. Now though, time for sleep.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Mentalist or Raglan Road.

I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that's known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May

"Jane. A moment, please."

Jane "woke up" and stretched before smiling up at his superior.

"Hello, Lisbon. Is there a reason you decided to kick my poor couch, or did you just feel like it?"

She let the piece of paper she had been holding flutter down onto his stomach.

"Stop leaving peoms in my office." she ordered. "And..."

The rose was next to land.

"No more flowers. It's getting old, Jane."

He gaped at her as she walked away. He looked down at the scribbled verse. How could anyone be so oblivious? The words "unrequited love" are mentioned, for God's sake! He thinks it might be an idea to have a chat with Hightower about how she got this far. God knows how she sloved cases before he came along if she was like this. He's going to have to try something diferent. He's tried subtlty, it didn't work. He tried glaringly obvious, that didn't work either. This woman will be the death of him.

He picked up the rose and sighed. Maybe if Lisbon had bothered to check her trusty friend Google, she would have known the meaning of it. A yellow rose with red tips. Friendship, falling in love.

Maybe it would have suited better a couple of months ago, when he was actually falling in love with her. But that ship had sailed a long time ago. He'll get her a red rose tomorrow, he decides.

Red for love.