"I can't believe Bertram's making me do this," Lisbon grumbled, glaring at her computer as though it were the machine's fault she was stuck with the task currently assigned to her.
"I can," Jane said from his seat in the guest chair at her desk. "If he could pass on the odious task of reviewing all the other team leaders' budget proposals to someone else, why on earth wouldn't he?"
Lisbon clicked through one of the spreadsheets open on her desktop. "What I don't understand is how Roberts thinks he can buy this fancy new software package when he hasn't even accounted properly for the salaries of the agents on his team. And he seems to have forgotten that all teams have to set funds aside for support staff we all share."
"Forget Roberts," Jane said. He nudged the as yet untouched sandwich he'd brought her a few inches closer to her. "You've been working on that for three hours straight. Take a break."
"In a minute," Lisbon said distractedly, squinting at the next line of numbers. Was Roberts seriously this big of a moron? He hadn't even factored in his equipment costs!
Jane leaned forward and punched the power button on her monitor. The screen obligingly went black.
"Hey!" Lisbon protested. "I was working on that."
"We're supposed to be eating lunch together," Jane reminded her. "Some might say that carries with it an implicit expectation that you actually, you know, eat lunch."
Lisbon shot him a look but picked up her sandwich and dutifully took a bite.
"That's better," Jane said, satisfied. "Now, stop thinking about Roberts and his inability to balance a budget. We have more important things to talk about."
Lisbon swallowed her bite of sandwich and looked at him warily. "Like what?"
"Valentine's Day," Jane said grandly. "It's coming up soon. What do you want to do to celebrate it?"
"Nothing," Lisbon said with a scowl. "I hate Valentine's Day."
"Well, of course you hated it before," Jane said patiently. "When you were single and every heart and flower reminded you that you didn't have anyone to share it with."
"Thanks a lot," Lisbon said sourly.
"But now you're with me," Jane went on. "So that doesn't apply anymore."
Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "It doesn't?"
"Of course not," Jane said breezily. "Now you're supposed to be pleased at the chance to show off the fact that you have a handsome and charming man ready and willing to cater to your every whim."
"First of all, I don't seem to recall you catering to my 'whims' any of the many, many times I have asked you not to piss off powerful individuals for your own amusement," Lisbon said. "Secondly, wouldn't it be hypocritical of me if after a lifetime of hating Valentine's Day, I suddenly stopped hating it, just because I'm not single anymore?"
"Meh," Jane said dismissively. "Who cares about that? A little hypocrisy now and then never killed anyone. It's part of the human condition."
Lisbon shook her head. "Seriously, Jane. Valentine's Day is not my thing."
"What have you got against Valentine's Day?"
"It's a made up holiday! It's all a big sham to get people to waste money on candy and stupid cards."
"Saint Valentine was a real person," Jane pointed out.
"Yes, but he had no direct line into the profit-making machine of greeting card companies and candy makers," Lisbon countered.
"Ah, I see," Jane said sagely. "This is just like the Santa thing. Tell me, what was his name?"
"What was whose name?" Lisbon asked irritably.
"The name of whatever young man was foolish enough to reject your romantic overture on Valentine's Day in the past."
"This is not because of some guy," Lisbon said with a glare. "I just hate the commercialism of Valentine's Day, that's all."
"Nope. That's not true," Jane said in that infuriating way of his. He continued to study her face. "At least, not entirely. You clearly have some kind of Valentine's Day trauma in your past. Junior high, I'm guessing."
"Of all the sexist—" Lisbon grumbled.
Jane didn't let her finish. "Come on, out with it. What was his name?"
She scowled. Okay, so he might be a little bit right. But only a little bit. "Fine. If you must know, his name was Cole Marshall."
"Now we're getting somewhere," Jane said, pleased. "How old were you?"
Lisbon sighed. "Eight."
"So, tell me about this third-grade paragon," Jane said with a grin. "What kind of name is Cole, anyway?"
"It's a perfectly fine name," Lisbon said defensively. "Besides, he was nice. We used to run races together at recess, and he didn't get mad if I beat him."
"Oh, this is too good," Jane said, delighted. "Suddenly I have a whole new level of insight into your romantic history."
Lisbon rolled her eyes at this. "It was no big deal. You know how kids are."
"You gave him a valentine," Jane stated.
"Yes. But he told me he didn't want it and gave it back to me!" Lisbon said, still put out at the memory of it.
"Were you in front of a bunch of other boys?" Jane asked knowingly.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Lisbon said, irritated.
"Humor me."
Lisbon thought back. "I gave it to him during class. That was when everybody exchanged valentines. Everybody was supposed to give one to everyone else in the class. That was how it worked. But he gave mine back!"
"That was your mistake," Jane said, annoyingly superior as usual. "You should have given it to him during recess when it was just the two of you running your races together."
"What does that matter?"
"Because boys that age aren't supposed to like spending time with girls," Jane explained. "It ruins their street cred with the other boys. Poor Cole was just defending his masculinity when he gave you back your valentine."
"Well, it wasn't very nice," Lisbon said with a sniff of disdain.
Jane chuckled. "Don't fret, my dear. He obviously liked you, too."
"How on earth are you getting that from this story?" Lisbon said, incredulous.
Jane shrugged. "Did he give anybody else's valentine back?"
"No," Lisbon said darkly.
"There you have it," Jane said. "If he had been indifferent to you, he wouldn't have treated you any differently than anybody else. If you'd given him the valentine at recess when nobody was watching, I bet it would have been a different story."
"Huh!" Lisbon tutted disbelievingly.
"Never mind," Jane said. "Forget about Cole. Think about what you want to do for this Valentine's Day." He winked at her. "I promise if you give me a valentine, I won't give it back."
She rolled her eyes. "I appreciate that, Jane, but honestly, I really don't care about Valentine's Day."
"Well, I can hardly allow that sentiment to stand, can I?"
"Please, Jane, can we just drop it?" Lisbon pleaded. "I promise this isn't about some deep-seated emotional trauma from my childhood. I really, truly do not want to do anything particular for Valentine's Day. You don't need to plan some extravagant stunt like a romantic hot air balloon ride over Napa Valley or something."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'd never do something like that for Valentine's Day," Jane said. "February is a terrible time of year for hot air balloon rides."
"I'm serious. I don't need you to sky write my name or arrange a string quartet to follow me around all day or whatever convoluted plan you've come up with."
"Fine," Jane said, exasperated. "No string quartet. We'll keep it simple. Dinner and dancing on Thursday night."
"Thursday?" Lisbon said, dismayed. "That's the day I have my training class."
"I'm sure no one would mind if you skipped one week," Jane said dismissively.
"I don't want to skip it. I like teaching those classes."
Jane sat back in his chair. "You're seriously not planning on spending Valentine's Day with me?" he said, incredulous.
Belatedly, Lisbon realized she'd hurt his feelings. "Of course I am," she backtracked quickly. "We can meet up after the class is over. Have a quiet night in."
"At least let me take you out to dinner," Jane wheedled. "I know it's a school night, but surely we could squeeze in a little dancing before you turn into a pumpkin at midnight."
Lisbon made a face. "Do we have to?"
"Of course we don't have to," Jane said, put out. "I just don't see what the problem is. You like dinner and dancing."
"Yes," Lisbon acknowledged. "But I hate crowded restaurants. Places are always so packed and noisy on Valentine's Day."
"We don't have to talk," Jane said. "We can just play footsie under the table and gaze at each other adoringly."
"I also hate public displays of affection," Lisbon said severely, though she knew Jane was already well aware of this fact. A chaste kiss or holding hands was fine, but anything beyond that made her extremely uncomfortable. "Restaurants on Valentine's Day are always full of nothing but couples exchanging sappy looks and groping each other. I never know where to look when people all around me are pawing at each other all through dinner."
"Fine," Jane said, defeated. "Have it your way. We'll have a completely unromantic Valentine's Day."
Lisbon perked up. "Really?"
"I reserve the right to try to change your mind," he warned.
Lisbon snorted. "Good luck with that."
Her phone rang and she picked it up. "Lisbon," she said briskly.
It was dispatch. Lisbon listened, took down the relevant details, and hung up. She looked at Jane. "We're up." She stood and slung her jacket on, secretly relieved to escape any further discussion about Valentine's Day, at least for the moment. "I'm going to go let the team know."
Jane sighed and packed up her sandwich, sticking it in his pocket to bring it for her on the road.
