Chapter 2 of 5

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Jane lay on his couch and stole a glance at Lisbon.

Lisbon stood in the break room, discussing their latest case with Van Pelt as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.

She looked relaxed. At ease, Jane thought, disgruntled. A week had passed since the holiday party, and he found himself mildly put out that Lisbon seemed to actually believe that the kiss they'd shared was, in fact, no big deal.

She'd blushed a little when she first saw him the Monday after the holiday party, which had seemed promising, but then she'd caught sight of the glassy eyes of the groundskeeper Jane had just hypnotized at the crime scene they were investigating and went back to yelling at him as usual. Since then, she hadn't betrayed by word or look that she'd given their kiss another passing thought.

Jane, on the other hand, found the memory of the kiss visiting him with inconvenient frequency. Just yesterday, he'd been questioning a real blowhard in the interrogation room, and Lisbon, seated next to him, had leaned forward. Her hair brushed his shoulder as she asked a question about the suspect's financials, and just like that, Jane had been transported back to that kiss. For the rest of the interview, he'd been unable to focus on anything but the intoxicating scent of her, the heat of her body next to his in the confined space.

He stole another glance at her. Watched as she stuck the stirrer in her mouth for an extra taste of the sugar she'd just added to the cup.

Jane shifted his hips. He wished she wouldn't do that. It was very distracting.

He turned his attention to the rest of the bullpen. Rigsby was buried in audit work, looking miserable. It was generally understood but not verbally acknowledged that Lisbon had assigned him this task as punishment for involving her in the whole slingshot mistletoe adventure. Rigsby accepted the punishment with dismay but did not protest.

Cho, who didn't care about mistletoe but hated being subjected to Rigsby's Tina Turner impersonation (which had indeed made an appearance before the night was out), turned a page in his book and did not offer to help.

Jane returned his attention to the break room. Those jeans looked good on Lisbon. Damn good. He thought wistfully of the green Christmas tree sweater and wondered if there was any chance of it making another appearance before the end of the holiday season. Today Lisbon was wearing a blue button down shirt. Crisp and professional. But it looked soft to the touch.

Lisbon and Grace finished their conversation. Grace headed towards the elevators, presumably dispatched by Lisbon to perform some critical investigative task. Rigsby mumbled some incoherent and patently false excuse, then hastened to join Grace at the elevators. Lisbon headed back to her office, coffee in hand. Jane watched her go.

"Boss'd be pissed if she knew you were doing that," Cho commented without looking up from his book.

Jane eyed him warily. "Doing what?"

"Staring at her like a lovesick idiot when you're supposed to be figuring out a way to solve the case," Cho said, his eyes still on his book.

Jane went still. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do," Cho said, his eyes still on the page in front of him. "That kiss really did a number on you."

"Excuse me?" Jane spluttered.

"The kiss the boss gave you at the holiday party," Cho said, turning a page in his book. "It got under your skin."

"What makes you say that?" Jane asked with as much dignity as he could muster.

At this, Cho looked up. "Like I said. You've been staring at the boss." Beat. "More than usual."

Jane's stomach sank. "More than usual?"

"You've always watched her when you thought nobody was looking. But ever since that kiss, it's like you can't help yourself. Can't take your eyes off her."

"That's ridiculous," Jane scoffed, but he felt a flicker of worry.

Cho shrugged and went back to his book. "Have it your way. But don't let the boss know how much time you've been spending trying to figure out how to get her under the mistletoe again while you're supposed to be working the case, or there'll be hell to pay."

"Ridiculous," Jane muttered, slouching down on his couch. He couldn't seem to get comfortable for some reason. He wriggled and shifted a bit more, finally getting himself into a more agreeable position. There. That was better.

His eyes returned to Lisbon's office.