A/N: Thank you for all the nice comments! It really makes my day. The plot point here is pretty much straight from the movie, although I had fun bringing the team back in. Hope you're having a great week!

Lisbon sat at Pike's kitchen island, drinking coffee. A glossy magazine landed next to her, Patrick Jane smiling on the cover. Another fell on top of it, another secret smile. A newspaper came next, then more. They came faster and faster. The same iconic three piece suit, the same mysterious smile. Headline after headline. Lisbon looked up at Pike as he held out the last one, his face impassive.

"Some light reading for you," he said. "You're in this morning's gossip."

She reached for it, but he stepped back, flipped open the cover, and started reading to her. "Patrick Jane was seen on a rare date last night. After a leisurely walk around the museum, they graced one of his favorite establishments, Italian Restaurant Il Tavolo Bianco. The lucky lady was seen with him at an art auction the previous day. Is love finally blooming for LA's favorite bachelor?"

She snatched the paper from him to see for herself. "He doesn't go on dates?" she said in disbelief.

"Apparently not. He goes to plenty of parties, but not—"

"What's his angle? Why me?"

He shook his head. "This is too hot. How long before they figure out who you are, make those connections? They're going to drag up his past."

She scowled. "He would hate that."

He stared at her. "So would you."

She drained her coffee and scooped up the stack of materials. "Thanks for this," she stated. She kissed him briefly and strode away.

"Where are you going?"

"I gotta get ready. I have somewhere to be."

He cocked his head at her, hands on his hips. "Do I want to know?"

Her lips quirked. "No."

x

A cleaning van pulled up into the long drive at Patrick Jane's house. A short time later, an unmarked sedan parked next to it. Lisbon got out and met with the occupants of the van. Cho wore overalls and carried a cleaning caddy with an assortment of spray bottles. Van Pelt had a messenger bag slung against her back, her hair tucked up under a cap. Rigsby held a bucket and rag mop.

Lisbon was back in her usual work attire, dark jeans and a well fitting solid colored shirt. Her hair was swept back in a pony tail and she wore her leather jacket.

"Thanks for helping me out, guys."

"Sure thing, boss," Rigsby said. "It's nice to get away for a bit."

"Not your boss."

"This feels wrong," Van Pelt piped up. "You sure this is how you want to play it?"

"It's Patrick Jane, you know how slippery he is."

She turned and surveyed the large house. "I can't believe we're going up against Patrick Jane again. Looks like he's doing all right."

Lisbon snorted. "Depends on your definition. Different packaging, same know-it-all, annoying, manipulative —"

"We doing this?" Cho interrupted.

All eyes turned to Van Pelt. She shrugged. "Yeah, let's go."

They clustered around the front door. Lisbon pulled out a keyring and checked in with them briefly. "Everyone ready?"

They all nodded. She took a deep breath, inserted the key, and pushed open the door. They filed inside, then hovered in the entryway as Van Pelt pulled out a device and attached it to the blinking alarm.

She pushed some buttons on the display and it started to cycle through some numbers. The numbers sized down as more slots were added. Van Pelt frowned. "It's a ten digit pin."

Lisbon glanced at the alarm, a light was flashing, waiting for input. "Can you do it in time?"

"I'm not sure. It'll be close." The first digit entered on the display.

"Fifty seconds."

Van Pelt tapped at it. "Four digits locked in. Five."

"Thirty seconds," Rigsby piped up.

She didn't waver. "Seven locked."

"Twenty seconds," Cho intoned.

"Nine."

"Ten. Make it fast."

Van Pelt looked up from the controller to the alarm box, intense. She relaxed and smiled in relief. "That's it. We're good."

They let out a collectively held breath. Then tensed again as a slow clap issued from down the hall.

"Impressive," said Jane, coming towards them. "You've become very good at that, Grace."

"Thanks," she said, her eyes cutting from Lisbon to the device she clutched to her chest.

"We saw your driver leave twenty minutes ago," Lisbon challenged.

"Yes, that's right."

"What kind of crazy individual hangs out in his dark house with the alarm on?" Cho asked.

Jane grinned, then brushed past Lisbon on his way to the alarm box. He tapped at it, then pulled back. He was too close, she had to crane her neck to glare at him. "Your bump and lift needs work. Clever to get my jacket from me, but the return was far too clumsy."

"You could do better, I suppose."

"Yes. Nice to see you taking a play from my book." He tossed her keys to her in response. She scowled. "Well, this has been fun. Good to see you all again." He snapped and pointed between Rigsby and Van Pelt. "I hear congratulations are in order. There are Disney tickets on the dining room table." He made eye contact with each of them. "Enough for everyone. But I have to go to work. Be careful with the carpets. Lock up when you're done."

He pulled a suit jacket from the coat rack and slung it on his shoulder before heading out the door.

Rigsby stared at him out the window. "Did he just —"

Jane's car came around and he waved as he got in.

"Yes, he did," Lisbon grumbled. She clapped once. "Okay, people. We just received permission from the home owner. Don't leave a cushion unturned, if there's something to find, we're going to find it."

"We can keep the tickets, though, right?" Rigsby asked. Van Pelt pulled him away.

"He's too confident. There's nothing here," Cho stated as the others dispersed.

"He's always been too confident. He thinks we're not smart enough to find his hiding places. But Patrick Jane has always underestimated us. Not today."

X

There was nothing downstairs, not a single thing. Everything was tidy, no hidden panels or false bottoms. Everything was at it appeared. Lisbon walked through serenely, her hands trailing on the furniture. It was her third pass. She paused at the large lounge at the back, opening onto a deck. The view of the ocean stole her breath.

Even in the front of the house, a lot of the art was devoted to the waves, the water, sailboats, sunset, sunrise, stormy, calm. She had looked at each one in turn, making sure that their painting wasn't hiding in plain sight.

He had nothing kitchy, or cluttered, everything top quality and shown in it's best light.

"Lisbon!" Rigsby called from upstairs. She turned that way and rushed up to meet them. "Here," he called again, letting her pinpoint the right room.

The master bedroom. She was drawn to the window again. There was a balcony here, another ocean view. What a life.

"Boss?" Van Pelt directed her attention back inside. "We found some safes."

"Multiple?"

"Yeah. We're not going to be able to crack them, they are top of the line."

"No artwork in here," Rigsby stated.

"Hmm?"

"There's nothing displayed in here. It must be the valuable stuff, he locks it up during the day."

"Maybe." Lisbon waved at the safes dismissively and turned aside, looking out into the hall. "Too obvious. It will be somewhere else."

"We've looked everywhere."

Cho appeared in a doorway down the hall and Lisbon walked towards him. "What's in there?" she asked.

"Office." She nodded and pushed past him. "Knock yourself out," he said under his breath. He looked up at the Rigsby's. "I'm about ready to look in the fridge."

"Now you're talking," Rigsby's wide smile was infectious. They all went down to the kitchen together.

X

Lisbon made a slow circuit of the room. There was more clutter in here than anywhere else, mostly stacks of books. She took in the details — a chess table with game in progress, overstuffed leather couches, fireplace. She smiled when she saw the familiar circus painting displayed over the mantle.

She went closer and smiled at the clown smiling out at her. "Hello," she said softly. The painting was set into the panel above the fireplace, there were no edges to check, no obvious touch points.

This was the only artwork in the house that she could be sure wasn't an original — she had seen it herself at the museum. But it wasn't a basic print, someone had taken the time to add some textured brushwork. It was a good job too. She frowned.

Clearly the aesthetic mattered. Did he buy recreations? Hire forgers? What motivated his choices?

She moved to the desk, no personal photos. Only one drawer was locked, but that was easily bypassed. Nothing interesting. He didn't appear to work from home. She looked up at the mantle again. There was something off about it. Rather, the candlesticks on it. They were bulky and tall, the candles hadn't been lit. Either he replaced them often, or they were there for another purpose.

She made her way up to them, studied them. They were pristine. There was a polishing cloth in his desk, a cleaning job he saw to himself. The one on the left moved easily, not as heavy as it looked. With withering hope, she moved to the other.

Her fingers found the grooves, teased along the smooth metal. She tugged at it, and it caught. She bit her lip. Carefully, she brought it closer, sliding against the mantle. A mechanism triggered, and the circus painting slid upwards into the wall.

She came face to face with the Monet. It wasn't in a frame, just resting in a rough stone alcove. She fumbled a bit, reaching for her phone. It only rang twice, and she only needed two words. "It's here."

X

Lisbon walked into the FBI office with the painting carefully covered with a towel, Cho trailing behind her. The Rigsby's had cleaned up and headed back to their kids, planning their Disney trip.

She couldn't help smiling as cheers erupted around her.

"Is that it?" someone called out.

"We got it!" she called back.

Pike watched her as she passed, his fingers curled around the edge of the desk he was perched on. She couldn't quite read his smile, it seemed strained.

Hightower came alongside her and ushered her into a side room. "You put the goods right here," she tapped the table. Lisbon unwrapped it carefully. "We've got our experts ready to go," she informed her. "This is Dr. Zisken from forensics and Dr. Steiner, from the museum."

The first doctor acknowledged her and started moving equipment around. The second, an older man with deep lines in his face, shook her hand. "Charmed," he stated.

Lisbon exhaled triumphantly. "Get to work, doctors. It's all yours."

Pike laced his fingers through hers and tugged her aside, speaking quietly yet urgently. "Breaking and entering? I thought you wanted to catch this guy."

"I do. I will. He let us in. His overconfidence is working in our favor. He didn't think we could find it."

"It was a needle in a haystack," Cho chimed in, his arms crossed. "He's clearly making up for something."

Lisbon turned her head towards him. "Thanks for coming down, Cho."

"Nice change of pace."

"You're good to go. You gonna play tourist for once?"

"I'll see this through. Then I've got a meeting."

Her brow furrowed. "You do? About what?"

"Don't know," his eyes flicked to Pike, then he moved away, giving them their space.

"What's that about?"

He lifted his eyebrows at her, but they were interrupted by Dr. Steiner. They had a device set up over the painting with a viewfinder. "We got a ghost here."

"What's that?" Lisbon wondered.

"A different painting under the top layer," Pike explained, then stated louder. "Monet was known to reuse canvases."

Steiner shook his head, smirking. He stepped away and took off his gloves, allowing Pike to look through the viewer. Pike frowned as Steiner said grandly, "The great unknown work…"

Lisbon moved in for her own look.

"… Clowns Playing Poker." Five garishly painted clowns, huddled around a green felt table, stacks of poker chips, smoking and holding cards.

She came up from the viewfinder with murder flashing in her eyes. "Where is he? Right now?"

"I, uh… You want help?" Pike offered.

"Only if you're willing to help hide a body." She stormed out.

Pike looked over at Cho, uncertain. The stoic agent held his gaze and shook his head very deliberately.

"I'll catch up with you later then," Pike called after her.