Lisbon woke up in her bedroom the next morning with a splitting headache and warm fingers circling her wrist. She froze. What the hell? Had she gotten drunk last night and slept with some random stranger?

She turned her head to investigate. Jane was lying next to her, fully dressed, two fingers pressed to her pulse point.

She leaned over and thumped him on the shoulder. "Jane. What are you doing here?"

Jane groaned and let go of her wrist. "Good morning to you, too," he said, rubbing his arm.

"Did we have sex last night?" she said, perplexed.

He opened his eyes. "You don't remember?"

"No," she said, her heart sinking into her stomach. "Did we go out drinking with the team?"

"No," Jane said. "Someone drugged you. You spent half the night in the hospital."

"What?" Lisbon said, alarmed. "Who? How?"

Jane yawned. "Excellent questions."

"What did they drug me with?" she demanded.

"Lorazapan," Jane said. "The doctors said you ingested it. Cho and I think someone in the office must have slipped you something yesterday afternoon."

"Lorazapan," Lisbon repeated.

"It's a barbiturate," Jane explained. "Similar to Rohypnol. The doctors said there shouldn't be any long term effects. Memory loss is common, they said."

Lisbon's mind raced. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would someone drug me?"

"I don't know," Jane said grimly. "But we're going to find out."

He looked upset. "You—you found me?" Lisbon asked, her heart thumping.

"I stopped by your office around eight. You were pretty out of it, but you were able to walk into the hospital under your own power. You didn't appear to have lost consciousness. You talked to Van Pelt about a quarter of an hour before I came to see you. She said you were more lucid then, so the drug hadn't fully taken effect by that point."

Lisbon sat up and raked her hands through her hair. "I don't remember any of that. What did I say to you?"

"You called me a pest, told me I was annoying several times, and accused me of messing up your paperwork."

"Oh," Lisbon said, relieved.

"You also told me I was pretty," he added with a grin.

"No, I didn't," she said with certainty.

His grin widened.

He was messing with her. There's no way she would say something like that to Jane. Even in a drug-addled state. She was almost certain, anyway.

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

She cast her mind back. "Yesterday afternoon, I think." She smiled faintly. "You brought me a muffin because you knew I'd skipped lunch."

"Yes, well, you get very cranky when you haven't eaten." Jane picked up her hand and placed it over his heart, clasping his hand over it, and closed his eyes again.

Lisbon hesitated, then lay back down beside him. She studied his profile. "You stayed."

"You were drugged. You needed someone to look after you."

"But what about—I thought you thought Red John would find out if you stayed."

"I do think that."

"So why did you? Why didn't you just drop me off or something?"

He scowled. "Yes, I'm sure successfully keeping the secret from Red John would have been a great comfort to me if you'd died of a drug overdose right under my nose, or were attacked at home while you were in a vulnerable state."

"Okay, okay," Lisbon said, seeing how upset he was. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me."

She pulled back and would have moved away, but Jane turned and caught her by the waist, pulling her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her a little too tightly and buried his face in her chest. "I was worried about you," he said, his voice muffled.

Lisbon let her hand drift up to stroke the curls at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I scared you."

His only response was to tighten his hold on her.

They lay there together for a few more minutes, enjoying the closeness, until Lisbon glanced at the clock and said reluctantly, "We'd better get going, or we'll be late to the office."

"Hm." Jane grunted into her chest, clearly displeased.

She knew how he felt. She resented it, too, only having stolen time when something awful happened. "C'mon," she chided him. "Up."

"Oh, all right," Jane grumbled, rolling over and getting to his feet with an ill grace. "I suppose your poisoner isn't going to catch himself."

xxx

Lisbon had to go see Dr. Carmen first thing, an experience as enjoyable as a root canal without anesthesia. This was supposed to be a routine check in after her involvement in Hardy's shooting, but the cursed man still wouldn't sign off on her. Poking and prodding her about her brothers, her dad. Pointing out that her father had been an abusive alcoholic. What the hell did that have to do with anything? The purpose of the process was to verify she could continue to do her job effectively. Her dad had been dead for years before Jane had shot Hardy. His being dead and an abusive alcoholic hadn't prevented her from doing her job before the shooting and it hadn't suddenly made her incapable of doing her work after, so she didn't see why he wanted to talk about it so badly. What was so great about talking, anyway? In her opinion, it was highly overrated. And he thought Jane had good mental health. The man was clearly a crackpot.

She'd had a moment of panic when he asked her what she liked to do on the weekends and her first thought had been 'Jane.' Not that she'd told Carmen that, but it was disturbing that that was the first thing that had come to mind. It wasn't even true, anyway. They rarely saw each other on weekends, and only when they had to work.

She was relieved to get a call from dispatch that cut the session short. She headed to the bullpen and rounded up her team.

Jane, to her surprise, proved reluctant to join them.

"I think I should stay here," he informed her. "I spent the morning searching your office and coming up with a plan. I think I can interview everyone on the first three floors by the end of the day."

Cho shook his head. "You should come with us. What if whoever did this decides to try again?"

The argument had a visible effect on Jane. "Good point. Lisbon, I'll ride with you."

Lisbon acquiesced without argument, not sure how she felt about Jane designating himself as her protector, but relieved not to have to argue with him about antagonizing every agent in the building.

There was no body in sight when they got to the scene. Jane started nattering on about ants while Rigsby and Cho played rock, paper, scissors to decide which of them would pull dumpster duty.

Lisbon only paid half her attention to Jane, preoccupied by her loss of memory and who might have drugged her. Only when he pointed out the line of ants moving away from the dumpster did his mindless chatter sink in.

They followed the line of ants to where they disappeared behind a heavy metal door. Lisbon pulled it open.

A body fell out onto the pavement. A body with a face she knew.

"Who is he?" Jane said, studying her expression intently.

"William McTier," Lisbon answered without taking her eyes from the body. "Serial child rapist operating out of San Francisco. Spent the last six years in prison at Pelican Bay."

"And you know this how?"

She met his gaze squarely. "I'm the one who put him there."

xxx

Jane seemed oddly relaxed when they got back to the office, at least in comparison to his behavior earlier in the morning. He seemed to have abandoned his intention to personally interview everyone in the building, at any rate. Instead, he pestered her to play a game with him. When she refused, citing the new case and a trial prep meeting later that morning, he changed tacks, his eyes once again intent on her.

"How come you never told me more about your glory days in San Francisco…Saint Teresa?"

She tried to brush him off, but the team had dug up an old article about McTier and there was no escaping it. "I caught the case, I investigated," she explained. How she'd been saddled with that awful nickname just for doing her job, she'd never understand.

Jane proceeded to recite the article's quote from Bosco from memory, pitching his voice to imitate Bosco's accent and mannerisms.

Bosco stopped by, interrupting Jane's disturbingly good impression of him. "You talk to Dreyer yet?" he asked Lisbon. "He'd be my favorite."

"We'll check him out," Lisbon confirmed.

"Sounds like you've got it covered," Bosco said. "Let me know if you need help. Be happy to lend a hand. For old time's sake."

"For old time's sake," Jane echoed, his eyes narrowing at Bosco.

Bosco left. Lisbon dispatched the team to check out McTier's recent activity. "Jane, you go with Van Pelt, find out what his girlfriend has to say," she instructed.

Jane shook his head. "I think I'll be of more use here."

Lisbon frowned. "How? Cho and I are going to be in a trial prep meeting. There's nothing for you to do here."

"Just a feeling I have," he said evasively.

"Fine," Lisbon said. "Rigsby, go with Van Pelt. The two of you can check out his associates after."

xxx-

The other shoe didn't drop until early afternoon.

The trial prep meeting lasted an eternity. Lisbon liked ADA Weymouth and appreciated her meticulous nature, but the knock on effect was that trial prep meetings at time felt endless.

Rigsby interrupted halfway through. "Boss, we have a problem."

"What is it?"

"We got a print off the magazine of the gun that killed McTier."

"A print off the murder weapon?" Cho asked. "How is that a problem?"

Rigsby looked at Lisbon soberly. "Boss, the print's yours."

xxx

"Your fingerprint is on the magazine of the weapon that killed McTier," Minelli said to her in his office ten minutes later. "Tell me why I shouldn't be throwing up in the bathroom right now."

"It's a lab error," Lisbon said. "It must be."

Minelli was looking at her with doubt in his eyes.

Her stomach sank. "Boss, come on! You don't think I did this. The people at the lab are overworked and underpaid. This happened at LAPD last year. Just have the lab retest it."

"What I know is that I'm up to my asterisk in political quicksand. You and your team are off the McTier case, obviously."

It wasn't a surprise. That was standard protocol. It still felt like a knife to the gut. "I understand. You throwing it to the FBI?"

"I don't want those guys roaming around my building asking impertinent questions," Minelli scoffed. "I had to pull some strings, but I got it re-assigned internally." He waved at Bosco to come in from the hallway.

"Thanks," Lisbon muttered. She was losing another case to Bosco. Great. "I guess."

"Hey, Lisbon," Bosco said. "How bout this, huh?"

She gave him a terse nod. "Bosco."

"He knows as much about the McTier case as you do," Minelli said, a note of apology in his voice. "It makes sense."

It did make sense. That didn't mean she had to like it.

Bosco got down to business. "You understand I have to ask you some questions now. Nothing personal."

Lisbon clenched her jaw but kept her voice calm, reasonable. "Absolutely. Shoot."

Jane strolled in then without knocking. Of course. "Hi, everyone," he said cheerfully. He winked at Lisbon. "Guess you wish you wore some gloves now, huh?"

"You have some input here?" Lisbon thought Bosco's tone was unnecessarily aggressive.

"Just nosy," Jane said, unperturbed. He perched himself on the arm of the couch, immediately to Lisbon's left. Lisbon found his show of solidarity by positioning himself at her side unexpectedly reassuring.

Bosco glared at him and returned his attention to Lisbon. "Where were you last night?"

"Oh, she was with me," Jane piped up before Lisbon could open her mouth.

Three heads swiveled towards him.

Lisbon glared at Jane for making the blatant implication. Wasn't he supposed to be the one so worried about people finding out?

Minelli looked resigned, but unsurprised.

Bosco looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"I took her to the hospital," Jane went on.

"The hospital," Bosco said sharply.

"She was unwell when I stopped by her office at the end of the day. Really out of it. I was worried, so I took her to the hospital. The doctor said someone drugged her with Lorazapan."

Minelli frowned. "Had she been drinking?"

Jane shook his head. "She was in the office all day, barely even took a break to eat anything."

"Is this true?" Bosco demanded, looking at Lisbon.

Lisbon shrugged helplessly. "I don't remember any of it. I remember doing paperwork at my desk. Then nothing until I woke up this morning, totally confused."

"Then how do you know that's what happened?" Bosco glared at Jane. "He's not exactly a reliable witness."

"You think I killed McTier and got Jane to lie for me?" Lisbon demanded.

Bosco met her gaze squarely. "Everybody in this building knows he'd lie for you in a heartbeat."

His words pierced her chest. "You seriously think I did this?"

"Can we focus here?" Jane said. "The question isn't whether Lisbon killed McTier, but who would want to frame her."

"Now it's a frame job," Bosco sneered. "When we only have your word on the matter."

Jane met his gaze coolly. "You know, people keep telling me you're a good cop. But it seems to me, a good cop would think more about how to gather the available evidence than accuse an innocent woman he claims to value and respect of murder rather than listen to what I have to say."

Bosco's jaw flexed. "Go on, then."

"Seriously, have you no respect for Lisbon's intelligence?" Jane asked him. "The woman has been a cop for fifteen years. If she had killed McTier, you really think she'd be dumb enough to leave fingerprints behind?"

"Enough, Jane," Lisbon said tiredly. "Just—tell him what happened."

"Cho was at the hospital, too," Jane told Bosco. "You can ask him, if you don't believe me. And I'm sure the hospital has one of those convenient paper trails you cops are so fond of."

"I'll check it out," Bosco said grudgingly.

"You really think whoever drugged me did it so they could frame me for murder?" Lisbon asked Jane.

He shrugged. "It makes sense, doesn't it? Why else go to the trouble of making sure you'd have no memory of last night? No one tried to kidnap you or attack you. What other reason could there be?"

"They might have planned to attack me, but changed their mind when they saw you were with me," Lisbon pointed out. Bosco shifted on his feet and glowered.

Jane shook his head. "Too risky. If someone had intended to cause you physical harm, they'd have chosen a method that allowed them to control the circumstances more closely."

"But how could someone have drugged her in the first place?" Minelli asked. "You said she was in the office all day."

"Yes. Which means it was an inside job. Obviously."

Minelli groaned. "So what you're saying is, I should be throwing up in the bathroom after all."

"Cheer up," Jane said. "It isn't necessarily someone who works here. Just someone who had physical access to the building. If you're lucky, maybe it will turn out to be some petty criminal or previously unsuspected witness who was just passing through."

Lisbon looked at him closely. "But you think it is someone who works here, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Jane said. "I was just trying to make Virgil feel better."

"But who would do that?" Lisbon said, her insides twisting painfully. "You think one of my colleagues drugged me so they could kill McTier? Why?"

"That," Jane said placidly, "Is what we must endeavor to find out."

xxx

They left Minelli's office not long after that. Jane trailed her to her office.

So," he said as the door swung closed behind him. "Bosco's in love with you. Interesting. I didn't see it before."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lisbon scoffed. "Bosco is a happily married man."

"Please," Jane said, unimpressed. "You saw his face when I told him and Minelli that I spent the night with you. He was ready to challenge me to a duel on the spot."

Her stomach sank. "You're exaggerating."

"He's a jealous man. Explains why he took against me so strongly when we first met."

"Right," Lisbon said sarcastically. "No way he could have independently concluded you're a massive pain in the ass unless he was madly in love with me."

"He's very recessive in his passions," Jane mused. "Hard to spot that he'd kill and die for you."

"Sure," Lisbon said bitterly. "That's why he was about five minutes from arresting me for murder until you barged in." The memory rankled. "His undying passion."

"Difficult for him," Jane commented. "Not wanting to betray his wife and knowing you don't feel the same way."

"Jane, please drop it," Lisbon said. "Someone is trying to frame me for murder. How are we going to prove it?"

"Quite right, we need to focus on the task at hand," Jane said. "Fortunately, it should be straightforward enough. All I need to do is hypnotize you, and—"

"Hypnotize me?" Lisbon said in horror. "No way. How could that possibly help? If I was drugged, I wouldn't remember anything about the time of the murder anyway, right?"

"I wouldn't hypnotize you to recover memories from when you were drugged," Jane said patiently. "I would hypnotize you to find out what you remember from before you were drugged. Find out if you subconsciously noticed anything about the person who did this."

Lisbon's insides squirmed in discomfort. "Can't you just—ask me?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "Good idea. Do you have any idea who drugged you?"

"No," Lisbon said grudgingly.

"So let me hypnotize you. We'll be able to go through the whole day, frame by frame, until we find out who did this to you."

"No," Lisbon said harshly. "I'm not letting you hypnotize me."

"Why not?" Jane said, exasperated.

"Because I don't want you in my head," Lisbon snapped. The truth landed between them like a lead weight.

Jane didn't appear offended. "Very well," he sighed. "I'll be out on my couch when you change your mind."

He left, leaving Lisbon to stew over the afternoon's events alone. Bosco and Minelli had acted like they really would have believed she killed McTier, if not for Jane's interference. They knew her. They had to know that she couldn't have—that she would never—

What would you have thought? A small, unwelcome voice whispered in the back of her mind. If you found out your fingerprint was on the weapon that had killed a child rapist, with no memory of the night when it had happened. She thought of her father's blackouts. The night they'd taken Tommy to the hospital. She shuddered.

But it hadn't happened like that. Jane had found her. Taken her to the hospital. Stayed all night to take care of her. Defended her to Bosco and Minelli when things were at their most bleak.

She realized she was in danger of experiencing feelings about these facts and hastily turned her mind to the problem of finding out which of her colleagues had poisoned her. All in all, a less unsettling prospect.

xxx

"We've confirmed Jane's story with the hospital," Bosco told her later that afternoon. They were gathered with her team in the bullpen. "We've decided not to tell anyone you have an alibi, though. We put about a rumor that you're the number one suspect."

Lisbon looked at him, incredulous. "Thanks for that."

"That was my idea," Jane piped up from his couch.

"Of course it was," Lisbon muttered.

"Best to lull the culprit into a false sense of security," Jane continued, unfazed. "Let him think his plan is working."

"And let everyone I work with believe I've lost my mind," Lisbon said sourly.

"Yes, exactly. You know, we really ought to stage a public breakdown," Jane said thoughtfully. "Perhaps tomorrow afternoon, when the stress of being a murder suspect really starts to get to you."

"Are you serious?" Lisbon demanded.

"Perfectly. Rumor mills don't feed themselves, Lisbon."