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I don't own the Mentalist characters, and no copyright infringement is intended. I'm just playing with these characters for fun.

This is pure, plot free fluff, which is all I seem to be able to write for this show these days. I apologize for any sloppy mistakes on this one, but I need to get it published today or there's no point, and the idea just occurred to me last night. (That's my excuse this time) The title is from the wonderful song.

"But don't change a hair for me.

Not if you care for me.

Stay little Valentine, stay."

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Teresa Lisbon closed her eyes and took a big, deep breath.

The flight transporting her from New Orleans to Austin had just hit a nasty bit of turbulence a couple hundred miles from home, and there was no Jane beside her to say those comforting things he always said. Likewise there was no warm hand to (discreetly) cover hers, so she wrapped her fingers tight around the ends of the armrests, trying not to let her anxiety show.

She distracted herself by looking around at all the couples, noting the frequent red shirts and occasional flowers scattered here and there. Today was Valentine's Day, after all, a day to spend with the one you love. But she was in the FBI, and the murderers they'd been hunting apparently hadn't taken that into consideration.

Her team, with Cho at the helm, had caught them eventually, but the long chase had left her frayed and more than a little homesick. This had been her first extended out of town case since she'd returned from maternity leave, and being away had proved far harder than she had anticipated.

Jane had stayed home with their five month old son. She called every single day, both morning and night, like some teenager away from home for the first time. Really, she chided herself, you should be more grown up about this. But the trip had hurt her in new and tender places, this not seeing her husband and growing child every day, and she didn't much like it.

Suddenly the airplane dropped about ten feet and she gasped in spite of her effort to appear calm.

"Just a few more minutes of this turbulence, folks, and we'll be clear of the bumpy air," came the unconcerned pilot's voice over the intercom. She wondered if they practiced sounding nonchalant for situations like this, so the passengers would feel safe. Surely they weren't really that calm.

This pilot, however, was good for his word. The bumps soon smoothed out and Lisbon's thoughts returned to her family. This morning when she'd talked to Jane, he'd sounded exhausted. Poor little Christopher had a cold – nothing serious – but he wasn't sleeping well with his stopped up nose.

Jane had lamented the fact that while she was gone, he'd gotten nothing at all done on his latest project – a small boat dock for the pond. She reassured him that didn't matter – that taking care of their energetic son by himself was a full time endeavor. And even though she couldn't wait to see them, she hoped they'd both be sound asleep when she arrived well after bedtime. Daddy clearly needed a break.

Not much of a Valentine's Day, she observed, but that wasn't a big deal. Neither of them put any emphasis on these types of manufactured holidays. She wasn't sure the date had even registered with Jane, he'd sounded so sleep deprived and out of it. She'd bought him a card and a little box of those scrumptious pralines in New Orleans. Plus she had tomorrow off. Maybe that would be their Valentine's Day, she decided, allowing that thought to brighten her mood.

Before she knew it, the stewardess was dictating the positions of seat backs and tray tables. She began to fidget – so much so that the rookie FBI agent beside her noticed. She didn't care. In a moment the wheels would hit the runway and then she'd be in her car, on the way home.

oooooooo

The car clock read 11:15 pm as she pulled down the driveway to their house. It was no longer a shack, but a respectable and cozy abode, thanks to Jane's determined efforts. The windows were all dark, but Jane had left the front porch light on for her. Amazing how happy such a small gesture can make a person, she thought, and smiled to herself.

Lisbon turned her key in the lock with great care, trying her best not to wake up a cranky baby. Once inside, she laid her bag down quietly and tiptoed through the dark house. She spied Jane, sound asleep on the living room couch with the baby monitor on the table right beside his head. She could hear their son's soft snores all the way across the room. Jane must have that thing turned up to eleven, she chuckled to herself.

There was no need to wake her tired husband, so she slipped down the hall past the closed nursery door, resisting the urge to look in on Christopher. She would see him in the morning - or maybe in an hour or two – if he woke in the night. It was enough to be home, and know they were close.

Once in the bedroom, she closed the door and pried off her shoes as she flipped on the overhead light. Then she peeled off her jacket and headed toward the bathroom. That's when she saw it.

In the recessed area where Jane had promised to build bookshelves, sat a big black gun safe, adorned with a red, heart shaped bow. She laughed out loud, immediately covering her mouth with her hand. She hoped the baby hadn't heard.

On top of the safe sat a delicate crystal vase filled with daffodils, no doubt picked from their property. She loved daffodils…which of course, Jane knew.

She moved over to inspect the safe, running her hand over its smooth surface. Beside the vase of flowers were some papers that revealed the combination. Following the instructions, she had the safe open with a few turns of her wrist. Inside, she found yet another surprise - a small handgun sized biometric safe, just the right size for her night table drawer.

She couldn't stop grinning. A couple of weeks ago Jane had mentioned she wasn't going to be able to keep her gun by her bedside once Christopher started pulling up. Though she'd known he was right to be concerned, she'd nearly broken out in hives at the thought. "Maybe we need a safe," he had suggested, reading her level of anxiety at the thought of not having her gun at the ready. They hadn't discussed it since, but her husband wasn't one to forget things.

She was so focused on trying to figure out how to set her print into the biometric safe that she didn't hear him until he was a step or two behind her. He reached up and rearranged her hair to one side, and she felt his warm breath on her neck as he placed a whispery kiss on her exposed skin. God, this man knows me so well, she thought, exhaling in contentment.

"Mmm. Glad you're home," he murmured, as his kisses travelled up toward her ear.

She leaned back into his warm, welcoming chest, and felt the deep rumble of his voice as he asked, "You like it?"

"It's perfect." Without losing contact with his body, she rotated to face him. Though fatigue weighed on his face, his eyes shown bright with want.

She slipped off her shirt, letting it fall to the floor as she pulled him down for a deeper kiss...just in case there was any doubt of her intent. His hand slid down her back, pulling her body tight against his, showing her in no small terms that they were on the same page.

"God, I missed you," he groaned.

"I missed you, too," she whispered. "How long do we have?"

"At least an hour. He hasn't been down long."

"Good." She unbuttoned his pajama top. Her husband certainly knew what she wanted, but she knew what he liked as well. The card and the pralines would wait, she decided, as she slid her hand inside his waistband. A man who gets a girl a gun safe for Valentine's Day should be thanked properly.

And she proceeded to do just that.

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Thanks for reading!