Title: he always gets what he wants

Disclaimer: Sadly, no.

Notes:

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, readers and alerters. You all really do know how to make me smile. :D

Anyway, shall we get into some more Jane hijinks?

Yes, let's!

3: Firsts

The Tuesday following her answer to Jane, Van Pelt stood before her full-length mirror, staring intensively at her reflection and mentally preparing herself for her date.

She didn't want to give him the impression that she had gussied up for him, but she also hadn't wanted to look like she had just gotten off work, either. So, the dress she was silently debating on was a strapless, sapphire blue, mid-calf-length dress. Jane had told her formal wear, and the dress wasn't only formal, but it was also comfortable and one of her favorite dresses to wear.

Her hair, on the other hand, she had decided to curl into mini ringlets that set against her skin. She didn't think her current attire choice gave Jane any ideas, but one truly never knew what went on in his head.

Ziege barked from her spot in the living room, and she inhaled slowly before somebody knocked on her front door, and she tensed. She wasn't ready for any of this—maybe she could just run! She spun from her mirror and turned to her window when a voice behind her spoke.

"You're not trying to run, are you, Grace?" Jane asked from behind, and she turned to stare at him.

"How did you get in here? My door is locked!"

Jane gave her an impish grin. "Your door was unlocked."

"No, it wasn't!" She argued. "You broke in!"

"…just in time to save you from jumping out a four-story-building window." Jane reasoned. "I don't think Lisbon would appreciate a call from me saying you'd jumped out a window to escape me."

"I wasn't going to jump!" She defended. "I needed fresh air!"

Jane merely shook his head, but didn't say anything else regarding her apparent window-jumping skills. "You look lovely tonight, Grace." She felt her face heat up, and he chuckled. "How do I clean up?"

Jane, she suddenly noticed, wore yet another three-piece suit, but it didn't really surprise her—the man had, after all, worn a three-piece suit on his wedding day with Lisbon.

"You look nice, Jane." He tsked, and she glanced at him. "What?"

"Grace, we're not in the office, and we're dating—my name is Patrick. Can you say that? Pah-trick."

She softly laughed. "I know your name, Ja…" He raised his eyebrow with a small smile. "Patrick." She corrected.

"I know it's slightly strange…"

"You have no idea."

Jane merely smiled. "Shall we go on our date? I have us reservations at Chez Whitney. I hope that's all right with you?"

Van Pelt gaped at him; Chez Whitney was one of the most exclusive restaurants outside the Sacramento area. From her personal knowledge, it took not only big money to have (and keep) a reservation there, but a big name to match as well. "You look surprised. Do you not like Italian? We can always…"

"Jane!" He gave her a glance, but she ignored it. "It takes months to get in there! How…?"

He smiled shyly. "I have my ways, Grace."

As he escorted her from her apartment with his hand on her elbow, she almost asked if those ways involved anything Lisbon wouldn't approve of, but Jane was right—this wasn't work.

This was a date, and work wasn't meant to be discussed on one of those.

X.X.X

"Welcome to Chez Whitney; I presume you have reservations?" The host greeted them as soon as she and Jane entered the fancy restaurant. Van Pelt couldn't even believe her eyes at the sheer beauty of the interior décor. It seemed, at least to her, that every wall space was occupied by a priceless photograph or painting.

"Yes, the reservations are under the name of Dixon."

"Dixon?" Van Pelt questioned in confusion. "Your…"

"Grace, dear." Jane interrupted her confession with a condescending tone, as the host stared on in boredom. "Did you forget my last name again? You silly girl."

The host still didn't seem very intrigued or interested in their little argument as he spoke again. "Yes, Mr. Dixon and Miss Evian." Jane nodded, and Van Pelt wondered why in the world her name would need to be changed. Nobody knew about their date, and even if they did, what could they do? "If you both would follow me to your table, dinner will be served shortly." Jane nodded again and squeezed her elbow lightly before he brought her along behind the host, who stopped at a table in the center of the barely full dining room; the table was decorated with a white lace table cloth and white place settings. "I will be back shortly." Jane didn't say anything, but pulled out a chair for her to sit in instead.

"Thank you." She offered as she sat down.

Jane waved it off as he took his own seat. "I'm supposed to be all gentlemanly."

She slyly glanced around to find that everybody else seemed completely focused on their own conversations, so she chanced asking him a question. "Why aren't you going by Jane, and why aren't I going by Van Pelt?" Jane glanced up at her from folding the napkin across his lap.

"Haven't you ever wanted to be somebody else, Grace?" He asked as the host came back to their table and handed over two menus. Jane gave a nod toward the host before he focused his attention back on her. "You can order anything you'd like. Personally, I think I'll start with a salad."

"What are you up to?"

He glanced up over his menu at her. "I'm reading a menu, what does it look like I'm doing?"

Van Pelt pursed her lips. "You know what I mean, the entire Dixon thing."

"We're not even thirty minutes into our date, and you're already suspicious of me?" Jane asked with a chuckle, and she glanced at him. "Lisbon was suspicious of me not even a minute into the date and I had just taken her out for seafood." He shrugged. "I don't think it was because of me, but I think it was because of those lobsters." He lifted one of his hands, and made a lobster claw motion to which she laughed. "I tried to tell the waiter to give us a different table without the view of the lobster tank, but apparently he didn't think my argument about the lobsters was valid enough." Van Pelt doubted the lobsters were what made Lisbon suspicious, even if it felt unnatural having their eyes on you while you were eating them. "Before you ask, Lisbon and I never ate at a restaurant this fancy. I think you've noticed by now that she doesn't enjoy flashy."

She was confused; Walter Mashburn was all kinds of flashy. In fact, the man was the dictionary definition of the word. "Why is she…?"

Jane shrugged as the host started back toward their table. "It's a mystery not even somebody like me could solve."

She bit her lip in thought and opened her menu to order. She had almost decided on a dish when a very familiar voice spoke from behind her.

"Patrick! I didn't expect you of all people to be here tonight!" Van Pelt turned in her seat slightly to find Walter Mashburn, who was dressed to impress and had a large smile on his face.

"Oh, you know me, Walter." Jane greeted him with ease. "I had to treat this beautiful lady to fine dining." He lowered his voice, which she assumed was for effect. "Fast food and lobster won't do for us."

Mashburn continued to grin before glancing down at her. "You have very good taste in women, Patrick. Hopefully she works out for you better than Teresa did." The billionaire gained an odd, dazed-like expression on his face, which she hoped wasn't an expression of love for Lisbon—if it was, she was going to have an even harder time trying to push Jane back to Lisbon and away from her.

"Speaking of Teresa," Jane conversationally stated. "Where is she?"

"Teresa had to step into the ladies' room."

Jane grinned, "She's probably trying to see if she can escape out a bathroom window."

Van Pelt threw him a dirty glare as Mashburn laughed. "It was nice seeing you, Patrick and his lovely date…but I need to get back to my table. If I don't, Teresa might believe I'm up to no good again." Jane glanced at the man before a giant grin overtook his face.

"Why don't you join us?" Jane asked, and Mashburn stared at him. "We have enough room, and I'm sure Grace wouldn't mind a little female presence at the table—right, dear?"

She gave a strained smile in response before she kicked him under the table.

"Ou-!" He cried, and Mashburn raised his eyebrow. "…about I pay for all four of us?"

"I couldn't honestly let you do that, Patrick." Mashburn, it seemed, didn't want to sit with them either, which suited her just fine. Besides, the last time she checked, it wasn't completely healthy to invite an ex-wife to sit with an ex-husband, while said ex-wife was on a date with some other guy that wasn't the ex-husband. Van Pelt silently wondered if Jane had switched his name in case Lisbon had caught sight of the reservations list.

But the man wouldn't be that sneaky, would he?

"I insist." Jane persisted, and Mashburn opened his mouth to reply when Lisbon's voice interrupted the conversation.

"Walter, we…" Lisbon stopped, mid-sentence, as if she were really trying to process what her eyes were seeing before her. "Jane? Van Pelt? What are you both doing here?"

"They're on a date, Teresa." Mashburn explained.

If Van Pelt had a camera, she seriously would have captured Lisbon's facial expression, for the woman's eyes were wide in complete surprise.

"A date?" She eyed them in suspicion. "Since when do you date Van Pelt, Jane?"

"Since we got here?" Jane relayed, and Van Pelt sighed.

Mashburn shot Jane an irritated look. "Patrick just invited us to dine at his table, Teresa—I told him no, unless you have a different answer."

Lisbon shook her head, shooting the odd couple a glance. "I'm fine with a no."

Mashburn glanced back at Jane, "The lady hath spoken."

Van Pelt glanced at Jane and cleared her throat. "I think I'm going to the ladies' room." Jane nodded, and Lisbon turned to Mashburn.

"I think I'll go with her."

Jane glanced at her. "Didn't you just go?"

Lisbon narrowed her eyes. "Not all of us have bladders made of steel, Jane."

"I never said you did." He answered, before giving her a smile. "But yes, birds of a feather must flock together."

Van Pelt rose from her chair and stepped away from the dining table as Mashburn and Jane drew them into a conversation. Lisbon stood next to her, and both women continued to the bathroom. This was one of the many conversations she didn't want to have with her boss, but as it seemed, Lisbon was perfectly content on saying nothing…and that made her even more nervous. She was entirely too focused on her own thoughts (and the impending conversation that was bound to happen sooner or later), that she didn't even notice that she was walking straight into somebody until it was too late.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized to the brunette-haired person, who didn't even stop to acknowledge the apology. "Whoever that was, they must have been in a hurry."

Lisbon didn't nod, but the woman cleared her throat. "Do I want to know about you and Jane?" She could lie and tell her boss that Jane had just invited her to invite her, but she definitely wasn't telling the truth. The last thing she wanted was for Lisbon to get angry with her, because Jane had decided to use her as his leverage in the dating game.

"Well, boss." She started, as they continued walking down the seemingly endless hallway to the bathroom. "Jane noticed that I've been a little blue lately, and he just wanted to cheer me up. I tried telling him no, but you know how persuasive he is." Lisbon nodded. "I didn't mean to take him away from you for the night."

"It's really okay, Van Pelt." Lisbon responded, and the two women grew silent. It was slightly puzzling (to her, at least) that Lisbon had one of the most perfect windows of opportunity to tell her about the divorce, but the woman had chosen not to. However, it seemed as if the woman wasn't even going to explain why Mashburn was with her either, and if it weren't for the knowledge of their divorce, Van Pelt could have thought that Lisbon was having an affair with the man behind Jane's back.

(Of course, the thought was truly laughable—Jane knew pretty much everything and the idea of Lisbon having an affair behind Jane's back was completely ridiculous and against the woman's seemingly stainless, kick-ass moral character.)

Lisbon cleared her throat after a few more seconds of silence between them. "I'll see you tomorrow, Van Pelt—enjoy the rest of your evening, okay?" Lisbon turned on her heels and left Van Pelt standing mere inches away from the bathroom before she could even reply to the senior agent.

X.X.X

"I hope you had a good date." Jane told her as he walked her up to her apartment. She didn't say anything to him as she unlocked the door and let them in—in fact, after she had come back from the bathroom at the restaurant, she hadn't said a word to him. Dinner had been a somber event, even though he tried to make many jokes about the food, the waiters, and the guy sitting at the table adjacent to them. "Grace, I really had no idea that…"

"Yes, you did." She snapped at him as she flipped on the living room light and threw her purse down on one of the two couches. "I may not be Lisbon, but I have at least enough intelligence to know that you didn't go by Jane, because you knew she'd be there tonight." He frowned.

"I'm a little hurt by your careless accusations right now…"

"If Lisbon found out about this, what do you think she'd say or do?"

"Sheep dip?" He offered helpfully, and she crossed her bare arms against her chest. "It's really complicated to say what Agent Lisbon would do—after all, she's licensed to kill...literally."

She narrowed her eyes. "If Lisbon shot you, you'd deserve it right now."

"Now, Grace," Jane tried to soothe. "Don't you think that's a little harsh? After all, I only wanted to take us out for dinner. I…" She narrowed her eyes. It wasn't Jane's stupid little manipulation game that had angered her; it was the fact that he didn't inform her of his stupid little plan first! If they were going to "date", he couldn't hide things like this from her and expect her to play along! "I also figured out your little joke! Miss Evian? For the last time, I'm not naïve!"

"You're beating a dead horse with that one, my dear." Jane informed her with a chuckle, and she stepped closer to him as he plopped down on one of her two living room couches. If he wanted a dead horse, she'd give him a dead consultant. "My little joke, as you call it, has been printed on water bottles for years. It just shows you how mark-like consumers truly are. You could drink water from a water faucet, and still be drinking the same water that goes into water bottles. Did you know that, Grace?"

She still wasn't amused.

"So, maybe I did know, but give me a little credit here—I never specifically told her we were on a date, or that we were dating."

"We will never tell her that!" She chided in mortification. "It was bad enough that Lisbon asked about us tonight!"

"What'd you tell her?" Jane leaned back on her couch.

"That you were trying to cheer me up!" Jane continued to remain amused as he settled against her couch. "What? Why in the world are you grinning? None of this is funny!"

"If we go on more dates…"

"More dates?" There was no way she was going back out with him! She still stood by her earlier belief that Lisbon had caused some sort of brain trauma, and she was the only one paying for it.

"Of course, Grace. It's only natural that we do, after all..." Jane explained with a flourish of his hand. "I had a lovely time, aside from the glass of wine spilled in my lap." Even in her anger, she had enough decency to blush. "Tell me, was that on accident or was that on purpose?" She didn't say anything to him. "Ah, so it was on purpose. Apparently, I bring out the bitch in Agent Grace Van Pelt."

"You don't bring out anything in me, Jane." She scoffed.

"Of course I do." He explained with a coy smile. "You just don't see it yet, but let me reassure you, I think Rigsby will like what he sees."

She merely eyed him. "We're not dating."

"I know you and Rigsby aren't dating, because you're dating me." He told her, calmly. "I don't think you noticed this tonight in all your anger and teenage-like angst of what would happen if your mother caught you out dating me, but Lisbon was absolutely miserable with Walter Mashburn." The man glanced down at the carpeted floor. "She needs me, Grace, but she needs to learn from her silly mistake first."

"Jane," Van Pelt sighed, and he raised his head to stare at her. She knew she wasn't Jane, but she could just see the pain swimming in his brilliant cornflower gaze. He had really loved Lisbon, and whatever had broken them apart was slowly tearing him apart as well. "I'm not going to pretend I know what you're feeling, because I've never had a divorce. I've never even been married, as you know."

His eyes moved to her collarbone, and she knew he was staring at the engagement ring from Craig that she had looped around her neck for the evening out. She almost wanted to tell him why she had worn it out on their mock date, but his pain was much more important than hers was at that very moment. Her pain was an old wound, and his pain was still very fresh.

"But, if you feel this strongly, maybe you should just tell her that." She advised quietly. "The boss doesn't read minds, Jane."

Jane shook his head. "Not until she realizes her horrible mistake, which she eventually will. I just need somebody to play along with me on this dating thing until that day." He continued to glance at her, and she didn't say anything. "Now, you know my reasons for wanting to date you. What do you say?"

What could she say? The consultant had literally poured his heart out to her on her couch and was asking for her help to win Lisbon back. She couldn't exactly say no, could she? She was a romantic at heart, and if she didn't help her friend, who would?

It was as if he could see the cogs turning in her head, for he lightly smiled in her direction. "You don't have to help me, Grace. I truly understand why you won't, really. What I'm asking you to do is selfish, and after all the problems I've given you over the past few years…" he stopped to laugh lightly. "It really isn't right." He stood from her couch and began to move toward her front door. "I'm sorry I ever asked you to try this. I just thought you could help me…"

He had his hand on the doorknob, and she closed her eyes. "Jane! Wait." She knew she would regret this, eventually…but the man was suffering, and who knew what he would do if he left her apartment in such a funk. "I'll help you, but…" she warned as he slowly turned around to face her in surprise. "…we do this on my terms. I don't want either of us overstepping our boundaries—personal or professional." He nodded. "I don't care what you say, Jane. Lisbon is pretty scary when she's angry, and I would like to keep my job. Got it?"

He nodded again. "I get you loud and clear, Grace." He paused to throw her one of his most brilliant (and heartwarming) smiles. "I don't think I will be able to thank you enough, truly…"

She shook her head in response. "I know you'd do the same for me, Jane."