He hurried back to the sheriff's office, eager to show Lisbon what he'd found.

He paused when he saw her smiling into the phone. Happy. He hesitated, distracted. Suddenly, knowing what had made her smile like that was more important than rubber gloves and plastic sheeting. He asked her what she'd learned.

Ah. The guys from the lab had confirmed her theory about Hector Ramirez. Apparently, few things made Teresa Lisbon happier than forensic evidence. Satisfaction radiated from her. Belatedly, he realized that at least part of her satisfied smile was because she was pleased to have proven him wrong, for once. Only he wasn't wrong. He couldn't have her thinking that, could he?

Later, after they'd spoken to Hector, she wasn't so happy. Go ahead. Say it.

He obliged her. "I think he's telling the truth."

She wasted no time in telling him she disagreed. "I'm charging him." But she was deflated. Part of her already knew Ramirez wasn't the guy. And maybe she was a little irritated to know that Jane had probably been right all along. Well, really. She should never have doubted him in the first place.

He pulled out his phone, excited to put his play back in motion, now that he had her attention again.

As he made the call, he observed dispassionately that the third button of her shirt was unbuttoned. Interesting. Was this intentional, or mere oversight? His eyes wandered to the freckles disappearing into the valley between her breasts, idly noting the feminine curves beneath her trademark tailored blouse. Had he ever been treated to this particular view down Lisbon's shirt before? He had to admit… it was a pretty nice view. He was halfway into cataloguing it in his memory palace before he recalled himself. He gave himself a mental shake and returned his attention to the phone call.

He studied her face as he made the call, the wariness in her eyes somewhat at odds with the curve of her soft mouth, the dimple on one side hidden, but the faint trace of it just barely visible, practically begging to be teased out of hiding. He thought about her taking Ramirez down, all that strength hidden behind the softness.

Looking back at him, her expression turned from wary to indulgent. Now she was just humoring him.

The devil tapped his shoulder. He smiled inwardly and decided to indulge himself. "Could you put us on the terrace? It's more romantic." His eyes cut over to her face as he made the request, gauging her reaction.

Her expression was priceless. Equal measures appalled and intrigued. As she processed his words further, she looked mostly horrified, but her eyes definitely flicked to his mouth. Once, twice. Ohh, very interesting, Agent Lisbon. He smothered a grin, having great difficulty containing his delight. She kept her face tolerably smooth, but he could see the flicker of panic behind her eyes. He couldn't seriously be doing what she thought he was doing. Could he?

She quirked her head to the side in silent inquiry.

He let her off the hook, barely able to contain his amusement. "Don't fret. I wouldn't seduce you over a meal." Really, didn't she know he'd be far more imaginative than that?

She was quick to deny it. "I didn't think you were trying to seduce me."

It was all he could do not to laugh out loud. "Come on. How could that thought not have entered your head?" He had put it there himself, after all.

This was too much fun. He couldn't resist winding her up just a little bit more. He smirked at her. "Your denial that it did intrigues me."

He brushed past her, chuckling to himself.

He expected her to do one of two things: either lecture him on professionalism or blush and ignore him.

Her tart response, laden with sarcasm, surprised him. "Bite me."

He bit back the obvious retort. You wish.

That was a line he probably shouldn't cross. For one thing, that really would be unforgivably unimaginative. For another, he had seen her tackle a man with a machete only the day before. She was certainly formidable, when she wanted to be. If he pushed her too far, she could probably reduce him to toothpick sized pieces in a few swift moves.

He held the door for her. "Come along, my dear. I have the hotel room all set up and ready for you." Well, he was always going to nudge the line.

She gave him a withering glare as she passed him, but she didn't object when he fell into step beside her. Said nothing when he placed his hand at the small of her back. He thought about the third button again as they stepped outside. Oh, well. It was rather warm out here.

Xxx

Later, when the case was solved and he was comfortably back on his couch at the CBI, his thoughts returned to Lisbon.

His big reveal hadn't exactly gone as planned, after all.

It had started promisingly enough. Lisbon, sitting next to him on the couch, alert and wary. Lisbon, impatiently yanking the remote from his hand and jabbing the mute button. Lisbon, next to him again, leaning back and putting her feet up.

It was when she cut him off and advised him she needed to go save the rest of the team from being written up that things had started to go pear-shaped, he reflected.

He had to admit that despite his confidence in his theory, he hadn't been prepared to face the chef and his wife when they'd actually showed up. With a bound and gagged young woman between them, no less. Suddenly his plans weren't so amusing. He was in a room with two psychopaths, with no idea how to save himself, let alone the girl they'd drugged and kidnapped.

He wondered if he'd ever find out what had made Lisbon turn back. Had she seen the van in the parking lot? Or had she simply followed her instincts? Perhaps she had gotten to the point where she just assumed that anywhere Patrick Jane went, trouble followed. In which case it was only sensible of her to double check on him, even after professing her indifference to his theory. In any case, he was grateful she'd come back to save him.

He thought of her breaking the door down, entering the room with guns blazing. The split second where she'd allowed the horror of having to shoot two people show on her face before she'd quickly turned her attention to the girl. Unbound her. Reassured her in a low, quiet voice that everything was going to be all right.

Softness and strength.

She'd been upset at the funeral. Quiet.

It was his fault. He was painfully aware of that fact. He could have come up with a different plan, but no. He'd had to show her how clever he was. He was a show off, and now two people were dead who otherwise might not have been.

Granted, they were psychopathic murderers, but the point still stood.

Thunk.

The couch jerked a little and he opened his eyes to see Teresa Lisbon looking down at him with a smirk. He stared up at her, incredulous. She'd kicked his couch.

"Get up," she ordered.

He sat up. "You kicked my couch," he stated, indignant.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked plaintively. The poor couch had never done anything to her.

She rolled her eyes. "To get your lazy ass up off of it, that's why. Come on, quit your brooding. We have work to do."

"What work?" he asked grumpily. He wasn't brooding. He was… reflecting. "We don't have a new case yet."

"I'm reviewing cold cases."

Beat. "Yeah, have fun with that," he said dismissively.

He made to swing his legs back up on to the couch again so he could lie down again, but she caught his arm and hauled him up off the couch before he could get settled. "Not so fast, my friend." He winced and rubbed his arm surreptitiously when she let him go. She really was freakishly strong, that woman.

"Lisbon," he whined. "I fail to see why your review of cold cases needs to interfere with my afternoon nap."

"Our review," she corrected him. "You're going to help me."

"That sounds thoroughly tedious," he said. "No, thank you."

"Nonsense, you'll love it. You'll get to show up decades of detectives before you when you find the clues everyone but the great Patrick Jane has somehow managed to overlook." She was flattering and mocking him at the same time. She was really the only person he'd ever met who could do that.

He had to admit, he wasn't entirely immune to this particular strategy of manipulation. Especially since it involved her dimple coming out to play. Of course, it wouldn't do to let her know that.

"Nice try, but I'm not helping you with this tedious drudgery, Lisbon. You might as well save your breath and let me resume my nap in peace."

"Oh, yes you are. You know why?"

He decided to humor her. "Why?"

Her eyes sparkled with teasing humor. "I know a secret about you."

He paused, intrigued. "You do?"

"That's right."

"What secret would that be?"

She arched an eyebrow at him, that adorable dimple playing at the side of her mouth. "I know that you, Patrick Jane, can be bought."

"Bought?" he echoed.

She shot him a slow, satisfied smile. "I've known you long enough by now to know that your cooperation can be secured for all manner of sins with a spicy pork and pepper jack sandwich from Al's sub shop."

He played along. "Really, Lisbon? You think I'm willing to sell myself for so low a price?"

She smirked. "I think if I tell you I already have a sandwich with your name on it, I have a pretty good chance of solving three cold cases by the end of the day."

He was feeling a bit peckish, now that he thought of it. He decided to stop playing hard to get. "Throw in an iced tea and one of Mrs. Al's chocolate chip cookies and you've got yourself a deal."

She grinned. "Come on, the food's in my office."

She strode away from him, her gait confident and purposeful. He let his gaze linger on the sway of her hips for a moment. She really was a pleasure to watch. His brain suddenly and inexplicably returned to that third button. Today, apparently, was a two button kind of day. Shame. He found himself wondering what she would do if he suddenly took leave of his senses and popped that third button himself. And maybe did a few other things while he was at it.

He indulged the thought for maybe five seconds. Just for a few seconds, he told himself, he would allow himself to entertain the question. What would it be like to seduce Teresa Lisbon?

"Jane!" she hollered from her office. "Hurry up! These cases aren't going to solve themselves!"

Damn hard work, for one thing, he acknowledged to himself ruefully. If he went straight for that button, she'd be liable to break his fingers.

Still, he reflected. It would be an awfully lot of fun.

He went into her office and sat down at the table opposite her, sneaking another glance down her shirt as he passed by.

Oh, yes. He was certain the payoff would be one hundred percent worth the effort for anyone who devoted themselves properly to the task of seducing her.

She pushed a sandwich towards him without looking up, already engrossed in a file. She'd left another file open for him, already marked with her notes. Her own half-eaten sandwich sat on the table next to her, clearly forgotten in her absorption with the details of the case. She had a tendency to do that. Get so absorbed in what she was doing that she forgot everything else. She was probably like that as a lover, too. All that green-eyed intensity completely and thoroughly focused on the person she was with.

It was an intoxicating prospect.

He studied her intently. Yes, a quick popping of buttons was definitely out. Seducing Lisbon would require a more subtle laying of groundwork. No overt gestures such as flowers or grand declarations. Those would only make her suspicious. No, probably the best way to go would be a series of small, unexpected gestures. An origami flower, a fresh cup of coffee waiting for her on her desk. Little notes hidden in her pocket so she would find them when she least expected. Small touches, here and there, to let her know he was aware of her, that he was watching out for her. Looks that lingered just a little too long. A long, slow burn.

Then, when she was going crazy wondering if it all meant something or if it was just in her head, he'd find some excuse to step close and steal a kiss. A soft kiss, to learn and explore.

He was pretty sure once that critical step was taken, everything else would fall into place of its own accord.

Alternatively, he reflected, he could just piss her off. Get her so worked up she was ready to explode, then cut her off mid-tirade with a kiss. The kind of kiss that drove out coherent thought. Pin her against the wall and kiss her again when she opened her mouth to protest. Let her take control when she finally gave in and bit his lip in retaliation. And be prepared for bruises when she shoved him against the wall herself and decided to take her frustration out on him through physical means rather than the usual verbal dressing down. His heart rate escalated at the thought.

He licked his lips and reminded himself of his biofeedback tricks.

All things considered, he decided he preferred the romantic approach, in this particular case. It would be fun to charm Lisbon, if he had the inclination. He watched her worry that full bottom lip with her teeth as she bit her lip in concentration. Considered that softness and strength, all bundled up in one tiny, fierce package. Seducing her would be a distraction, but it would certainly be a pleasant one.

He'd never do it, of course. He only had room for one thing in his life, and that was Red John. Besides, he was broken, unfit. He didn't deserve to be in anyone's life in that way, let alone hers.

No matter how attractive the prospect of all that porcelain skin with those delectable freckles might be.

She looked up and sent him an inquisitive look. "Everything all right?" she asked, those green eyes fixed on him with curiosity and concern.

"Of course," he said smoothly, picking up his sandwich and pulling the file she'd left open for him a little closer to himself. If he wasn't careful, his theorizing would become a moot point. She'd kill him if she knew what he was thinking.

That he'd been sitting over here crafting a seduction plan with all the attention to detail that he normally devoted to his most complicated schemes. But really, was it his fault the details in this case were so damn appealing? He peered over the top of his file and watched her hair fall forward as she bent closer to her own file. Watched the light shine off the smooth, dark strands. He bet her hair was really soft.

He forced his eyes back to his file. Five seconds, he reminded himself. That was all he could permit himself. Time was up.

He glanced over at her, observing the graceful column of her neck, the casual flick of the slender wrist as she turned the page. Thought again about that soft, full mouth.

Okay, so he may have considered the idea for a tiny bit longer than five seconds.