Jane leaned against the door frame to Lisbon's office, holding a cup of tea and saucer as he watched her work in the dim evening light.
She tried pretending she didn't notice him, but of course, he could out wait her any day of the week. She'd cave before his tea even got close to going cold.
Predictably, after only a few breaths, she blew out a frustrated sigh and looked up. "What?" she demanded.
"You know," he drawled. "I've been thinking."
A muscle in her jaw ticked. He watched her internally debate which scenario would result in the least annoyance to herself—indulging his obvious desire for her to ask what he'd been thinking about, or pretending she had no interest whatsoever in what he was thinking about.
Of course, he could have just told her straight out what he'd been thinking, but what would be the fun in that? Riling up Lisbon was one of the very few pleasures in his life these days—he wasn't about to deny himself that indulgence.
"About what?" she asked grudgingly.
He grinned inwardly. Smart woman. She knew he wouldn't give up and leave her alone when his object was clearly to engage her. She'd learned by this point that if she tried to disengage, he'd only make more of a nuisance of himself to secure her attention. Indulging him wouldn't achieve her preferred outcome of being left alone to finish her work in peace, but it would waste less time.
"I was just thinking," he repeated. "That you're actually much more like the Lone Ranger than I am."
She exhaled through her nose. "I swear to God, Jane, if this conversation involves you comparing me to Tonto in some way, so help me—"
"I meant nothing of the kind," he protested. "Didn't I just say you were like the Lone Ranger? Besides, what's so bad about Tonto? He's brave and loyal."
"He's a sidekick," she said flatly. "And his name means 'moron' in Spanish."
"Fun fact, Lisbon—translated from the local Native American language, the word 'Tonto' actually means 'Wild One.' When they dubbed the show into Spanish, they changed the name to 'Toro.' Which means 'bull.'" He paused. "Actually, given your stubborn nature, perhaps there is some room for comparison—"
She glared at him. "Fine. How am I like the Lone Ranger?"
"Well, he's an excellent shot, for one thing. And always has at least two guns on his person."
"I'm a cop, Jane. Carrying a gun is part of the job."
"Another point of similarity. You're both members of an elite statewide law enforcement agency."
"Isn't the Lone Ranger kind of a rogue element? Off doing his own thing rather than actually functioning as part of a legitimate part of the justice system?" Lisbon countered.
"He cares more about truth and justice than bureaucratic details," Jane said dismissively.
Her eyes narrowed. "Now you're accusing me of being a glorified paper pusher?"
"I am not!" Jane said, exasperated. "I was making my point. You and the Lone Ranger both prize truth and honor over personal accolades."
Lisbon blinked. "Oh," she said, disarmed.
He peered at her closely. "Why are you so grumpy? We closed the case. And you seemed amused when Rigsby went off with his fierce-looking cougar date."
She frowned. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's been a long day and you had that 'I'm going to annoy Lisbon for my own amusement' look in your eye. Experience has trained me to automatically go into defense mode when I see that look."
"I don't annoy you purely for my own amusement, Lisbon." He took a sip of his tea. "I annoy you for our mutual amusement."
"Gee, that makes me feel so much better," Lisbon said dryly.
"You know," he said speculatively. "You'd look quite fetching in a domino mask and a white cowboy hat."
She snorted. "Yeah, right."
She would look good in a white hat. For a moment, he lost himself in a brief fantasy of Lisbon as a badass cowgirl, the bane of outlaws in the Old West. He recalled himself. "With a red kerchief tied around your neck," he added, gesturing to his own neck.
She threw a pencil at him, but he'd succeeded at making her blush, so he counted it as a win.
"I heard you with the kid, you know," she said abruptly, after he'd made a show of ducking from the slender wooden missile. "Oscar. You were really good with him."
Jane shrugged. "He's a good kid."
"Yeah." She picked up another pencil and started fiddling with it. "That whole Three Musketeers bit—that was sweet of you."
Jane wasn't used to Lisbon using this word in any context, let alone applying it to him. He couldn't decide whether to preen obnoxiously or let her see how touched he was at her assessment, even though he really hadn't done anything special. Oscar was a good kid. "Aw, Teresa," he said, grinning. "You think I'm sweet?" Obnoxious was generally the safer course when it came to Lisbon, all things considered.
"Yeah, well," she grumbled. "Sometimes. On very rare occasions."
"Maybe we should incorporate this element of my personality into our team name," he said. "So everyone will know up front what they're getting when they cross paths with us."
She raised an eyebrow. "Our team name?"
"Yes, our partnerly nickname, the one that describes our respective personalities, yet also captures the essence of us as a dynamic duo." He gestured between them. "We could be Sweet'n'Tart."
She shook her head, smiling. "You know what? I think I'll stick with the Lone Ranger metaphor."
Pleased, he smiled back. He loved being silly with her. "It is an apt one," he said. "The whole point of the 'Who was that masked man, I never got a chance to thank him' thing was central to the theme of the whole show. The Lone Ranger didn't do his good deeds for fame or the gratification of personal vanity. He risked himself out of selflessness and a desire to see justice served, not for thanks." He retrieved her pencil from the floor and placed it gently on the desk before her. "So you see," he said quietly. "It's a far more appropriate comparison to you than me, my dear."
Lisbon's lips parted softly in surprise. "I don't know," she said softly, looking up at him, her lips curving into the smallest hint of a smile. "You have your moments."
Her eyes looked temptingly luminous in the dim light. Jane decided it was time for a strategic retreat. He rocked back on his heels and gestured to the stack of files on her desk. "You sticking around here for a while?"
Lisbon looked at the files with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "Yeah. I've got to go to court tomorrow, so I need to get a jumpstart on this."
"I'll leave you to it, then." He tipped an imaginary hat at her. "Good night, fair maiden."
She grinned. "Night…Tonto."
Well, he should have expected that one.