A/N: Hello, mentalist friends! Sorry I've been MIA lately. I'm working on an original novel at the moment and trying to stay focused on that for the most part, but I took a break to return to our favorite characters. I still have ambitions of finishing a tag for each episode through the end of the first season as part of this series, but alas, updates will continue to be pretty few and far between. Got a few other Mentalist ideas kicking around in the back of my brain so I will try to get to them eventually, but those too, are unlikely to be completed any time soon. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this little piece - it's short, miracle of miracles. Didn't know it was possible, did you? ;) Hope you all are happy and well!

xxxxx

Jane stood in the break room over a pot of boiling tea, surreptitiously watching Van Pelt cycle through an interesting series of actions. First, when she was confident no one was looking, she would steal a glance at Rigsby. She would gaze at him for a solid three seconds, a mix of doubt and longing on her face. Then she would catch herself, straighten, and start typing furiously, glaring at her computer screen. This would last for a minute or so, then the cycle would start over again.

Jane couldn't blame her for being distracted. That had been some kiss Rigsby had laid on her. It had been so amusing, watching Van Pelt pretend she hadn't enjoyed it, then panic about the reality of the situation.

All told, this case had been thoroughly enjoyable. The opportunity to pit his wits against a master hypnotist plus the entertainment value of seeing Rigsby act without inhibition for once.

He poured his tea, milk already waiting in the cup, and stirred. In a way, he almost envied Rigsby. What would it be like, to act with that freedom? Not to worry about consequences, but to just act on any impulse that came into one's head? What would it be like to hear those words, and be free to act on them? You can do anything you want. Now open your eyes, and do it. Do whatever you want.

His mind strayed to Lisbon's mouth. He thought of how close she'd been when she'd leaned in to ask him whether Rigsby had experienced a psychotic break. How he could feel the warmth of her skin and smell her delicate cinnamon scent. How close her mouth had been.

You can do anything you want.

He stopped, mid-stir, arrested by the thought of her mouth. Anything you want.

He shut down the thought. He forced his mind back to the case. Told himself half-heartedly he should work on his Red John files.

He glanced over and saw that the light on Lisbon's desk was on. He straightened, feeling suddenly lighter. She was back from her last meeting, then. Probably buried in paperwork. Well, naturally it was his duty to save her from the never ending grind of the government machine. He hastily assembled a second cup of tea.

He took the tea into her office. "Evening, my dear," he said cheerfully.

She looked up from her stack of files. "Hey." She gestured to the two cups he held. "You made me coffee?" she said hopefully.

"Tea," he corrected.

Her face fell. "Oh."

"Tea is better for you," he admonished.

She hmphed in discontentment, her lower lip jutting out in an unconscious pout.

His eyes tracked the pout and his heart rate picked up speed. Suddenly, the idea of sharing a cup of tea across the vast expanse of her desk seemed entirely too far away. It was evening, after all. Official work hours were over. Surely Lisbon wouldn't object to a more intimate seating arrangement, given the lateness of the hour.

He sat down on her couch, careful to keep both cups balanced so as not to spill any on the way down. He settled in with a contented noise, balancing his cup on the arm of the couch and resting Lisbon's cup on his knee. He had every intention of holding the beverage hostage until she agreed to come sit next to him. He looked over at Lisbon and raised his eyebrows, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Well? Do you want it or not?"

Grumbling to herself, Lisbon got up from her desk and crossed to the couch. She plopped down next to him and reached for the tea, but he was too quick for her. He whisked the cup away, holding it across his body, just out of reach. "Manners, Lisbon," he teased with a grin. "Aren't you even going to say please?"

Lisbon said several choice words. 'Please' wasn't among them. Still cursing him under her breath, she reached across him and made a grab for the cup. Her arm pressed into his shoulder as she leaned across him, and a flash of deep, unexpected happiness sliced through him.

She wrestled the tea away from him with a crow of triumph, then sat back demurely. She was still sitting very close to him, though. Their arms were still touching. Jane took a sip of his tea, profound contentment settling deep into his bones.

She looked down at her prize. She seemed a bit flummoxed now that she had it, now doubt remembering that she didn't even really like tea.

She took a sip and grimaced, but continued to drink it anyway out of pure stubbornness.

Jane hid a smile, charmed and amused.

"I can't believe Lindsay killed her own sister," Lisbon remarked, taking another sip of her tea and wrinkling her nose. He could see her thoughts stray to her brothers, distant but nonetheless treasured and adored.

"People do crazy things for love," Jane acknowledged.

"She sure proved that," Lisbon agreed.

"Especially when it's unrequited," he added. "Hell hath no fury, etc."

Lisbon, annoyed by the sexist remark, elbowed him none too gently in the ribs. "Shut up."

His contentment deepened. "Hypnotizing two people into implicating themselves to cover her tracks was pretty brilliant, though. She was very clever. You've got to give her that."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Sure, Jane. I'll forget the fact that the woman was completely unhinged, just because she mastered 'living the model life.'"

"I'm not saying that the fact that she was unhinged isn't an insignificant factor," Jane allowed.

She bit her lip. He really wished she wouldn't do that. At least, not while she was sitting so close to him. "Speaking of unhinged… are you okay?"

Jane looked at her a little askance. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, someone you work with nearly threw you off a building," she said dryly.

"Meh," he said dismissively. "Rigsby didn't know what he was doing. And he didn't throw me overboard once I pointed out the sharks. I thought that was downright decent of him."

She grinned. "Sharks, huh?"

He glanced at her. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Bought you a little time," she conceded. "I think you might have been swimming with those sharks if you hadn't figured out the trigger when you did, though."

"But I did figure it out," Jane said, a little ruffled.

Lisbon shook her head, still laughing at him. "Whatever you say."

Jane stared, mesmerized by her mouth and her nearness.

You can do anything you want. Anything at all.

He couldn't seem to look away from her mouth.

Lisbon, still smiling, caught him staring. A self-conscious smile nearly took his breath away. "What?"

He snapped out of it. "Nothing." He took a sip of his tea and composed himself.

But he kept sneaking glances at her mouth when she wasn't looking.