Lisbon spent most of the next morning in court, delivering testimony for two separate cases. When she got back to the CBI, Cho informed her they'd caught a break on the Mitchell case, and he, Van Pelt, and Rigsby were driving to San Jose to follow up.

Pleased by the development in the case, Lisbon took the opportunity to take a quick break and grab a cup of coffee. She took it back to her office, intending to catch up on some paperwork before her next meeting.

Jane was lying on her couch.

"You were bluffing last night," he said without opening his eyes.

Lisbon crossed over to the couch and prodded him with her foot. "Scoot over. Didn't I prove last night that I wasn't?"

Jane sat up and moved over. "I meant about your threat to move in with me."

Lisbon sat down next to him and took a sip of her coffee. "Believe me, it would not be my preference, but if it would prevent you from endangering a civilian's life, I would do it in a heartbeat."

Jane grunted in dissatisfaction. "It's exceptionally irritating in this instance that you're such a bad liar that I know you're telling the truth." He looked over at her unhappily. "I wish I could make you understand the true nature of the risk you're undertaking."

She met his gaze. "I've been working the Red John case a long time, Jane. I understand the risks perfectly."

He looked away. "Very well, then," he said, defeated. "Going out with Kristina was a bad idea in the first place. I'll have to think of something else."

Lisbon sipped her coffee. "You do that."

He glanced at her. "I'm still annoyed at you."

Lisbon grinned at him. "That's a nice turn up for the books, isn't it?"

Jane did a double take at her smile. The next thing she knew, his hand was on her cheek and his mouth was on hers.

Lisbon was so startled she almost spilled the remainder of her coffee on his lap. She kissed him back automatically for all of two seconds before she regained her senses.

"What the hell, Jane?" she spluttered. She scooted away from him. "You were literally just trying to convince me to join you in your paranoia, and one minute later you're kissing me in the office where anyone could see?" A quick glance out at the deserted bullpen confirmed no one had, but still. The point stood.

Jane looked abashed. "Sorry. I just—can't seem to help myself sometimes."

"You're the one who insisted it was too dangerous for us to keep seeing each other like that," Lisbon huffed. "You can't have it both ways, Jane."

"I know. I'm sorry," Jane said again. "You're kind of like—my kryptonite."

"There are so many things wrong with that metaphor I don't even know where to start," Lisbon said angrily. "I weaken you? I'm your partner, Jane. I'm supposed to cover your blind spots, so we're stronger together than either of us would be on our own."

"You do that. I retract the metaphor," Jane said wearily. "I just meant—sometimes I can't think straight when I'm around you. Sometimes I get cinnamon-brain."

"Now you're not even making sense. What the hell is cinnamon-brain?"

He blew out a breath. "When you're near me, the cinnamon smell gets into my head and overrides the master control switch. That's when I do things that I know I shouldn't."

She inched away from him. "I wasn't sitting that close to you," she muttered.

"You were," he said. "But in any case, cinnamon-brain isn't purely limited to olfactory triggers. In this case, it was your smile that caused the cinnamon-brain."

"What do you want me to do, change my shampoo and never smile again?" Lisbon said defensively.

He sighed. "No. That wouldn't work, anyway. I just need to exercise better self-restraint."

Lisbon was quiet a moment. It wasn't like she couldn't relate. Jane's smile had an uncanny ability to scramble her brain as well. She was just—always surprised when Jane lost control. It happened so rarely. Although, she realized, most instances in recent memory did seem to be related to her. She recalled making out with him in the stairwell that time, and the night he'd stayed at her place after they'd taken down Carmen for framing her, rationalizing his obvious preference to stay.

Uncertainty washed through her stomach. What Jane was describing sounded suspiciously like feelings.

She'd never seriously believed Jane could or would develop real feelings for her. She had trouble getting the idea to compute. She knew there was an attraction between them – that was obvious. She also knew he cared about her. If she ever needed help with something, she knew without question that he would help her. But she had always believed that for Jane, there was a clear dividing line between attraction and loyalty. Like the separation between church and state. They coexisted, but served different functions. Everyone was better off when that dividing line was strictly maintained. Right? Lisbon suppressed a sigh. Now she was the one with the problematic metaphor.

Nothing could be gained by putting voice to these thoughts, however, so she finally ventured, "Every dieter has relapses?"

He huffed out a laugh. "Just so."

"I guess I have been known to hit the closed case pizza pretty hard myself, sometimes," she admitted. She raised her mug in a half-hearted toast. "To self-discipline?"

"I've never heard a less inviting toast," Jane said gloomily. "But I suppose under the circumstances, it will have to do."

Lisbon's desk phone rang. She got up and answered it. "Lisbon."

The blood drained from her face as she listened to the agent from dispatch relay the details of a new case.

"What is it?" Jane said sharply.

Lisbon hung up. "A girl's been killed at her college campus. Preliminary evidence suggests she was killed by Red John." She looked at Jane, sick to her stomach. "Jane…what if—what if you were right? What if this is some kind of punishment for dinner last night?"

Jane stood up. "I need to see the scene," he said grimly.