Back in Austin late the next morning, they scattered back into FBI HQ, Lisbon met with their usual pile of case-closed paperwork, which she was secretly covetous that Cho had ultimate responsibility for. Jane however, was greeted with a large awkward piece of furniture that seemed out of place in the sleek, modern, sophisticated vibe that the Austin bullpen radiated – a big, old, tatty leather couch that resembled the old CBI one positioned against the glass exterior window between his and Lisbon's desks.

"Oh yes yes yes yes," he said as he saw the couch joyously, before leaping on it back first like a child. He stretched his arms and legs out, "Oh yes, this will definitely do. Perfect," he said as he sat up, looking rather pleased with himself, stroking the worn leather with the palm of his hand.

Lisbon watched him judgementally but with a twinge of amusement and nostalgia, as Cho summoned them into a conference room, a room fully framed by glass between the bull pen and the hallway of the offices. The table was lined with three green and red cardboard boxes, the familiar aroma of melted cheese and crisp cured meats filling the air.

"Seeing as we have quite the CBI influence in the team now, I thought I'd revive a tradition. Closed-case pizza," Cho said proudly to the team. "No pineapple while I'm in charge though." Cho gave the faintest of smiles as he watched the four of them dig in, fondly reminiscing and missing the big ole guff that was Rigsby.

"I don't like this room," Vega said as they chewed into their pizza. "I feel like everyone's staring at us, like we're in an aquarium."

"Ah you see, but the beauty of it is we can see out too," Jane replied, "the fishbowl works both ways."

They peered at a stressed-looking colleague beyond the aquarium glass having an impassioned phone conversation. "He's going through a divorce and is having custody disagreements about his children, no wait, his dog," Jane pointed out.

A well-dressed lady with buoyant red curls walked past, "Oh, so that outfit is new, new do and nails too, she's trying to impress someone new in her section, probably someone ten years junior with mummy issues," Jane said with boyish enthusiasm much to Vega's enjoyment.

"Ok Jane, we get it. Quit it," Lisbon chastised.

Abbott swung the glass door of the fishbowl open and stuck his head into the room.

"Congratulations on an unusual case closed team, and in record time too. Well done Agent Cho, well done team," Abbott said, "Lisbon, could I have a quick word with you in my office please?"

Lisbon dropped her pizza on her plate, rose with an unsure vibe and followed Abbott out of the fishbowl. He closed the door behind them as they entered his office and took a seat behind his desk.

"How was the first case with Jane?" he asked.

"Closed quickly and done well like you said," she answered with his own words, wondering why she was here and not Cho.

"I had an interesting complaint cross my desk from a Sarah Blunt, which has of course been quashed given the developing circumstances and the charges against her," Abbott surmised.

"She ended up assaulting, Jane. Deserved, but still assault, which given the situation, we overlooked at the time," Lisbon replied firmly and clearly.

"I just wanted to make it clear Agent Lisbon, the reason why you're here. Why you got the job here over many other bright and competitive applicants," Abbott began warily.

"I know, a pot sweetener for Jane, so I've heard," Lisbon said blandly.

He chuckled. "Naïve of me to think gossip doesn't travel. But not quite."

She looked at him with uneasiness.

"Cho is in charge of the team and keeping you all in check. You are in charge of Jane and keeping him in check," Abbott said, mirroring Lisbon's previous firm and clear tone.

"That's not what I signed up for, sir. If there was a babysit Jane clause in my contract, I sure as hell wouldn't have signed it," she said emphatically.

"Paragraph 7, sub-section 2b of your contract, ongoing duties can extend to tasks within a reasonable scope at the discretion of the director. My discretion, your job role now includes the responsibility of a consultant ascribed to your team, which certainly seems within reasonable scope," he explained in a very business-like manner. "It's a proven skill that was a significant underlying factor in the bureau offering you this role."

"I'd like to think I have a lot more to offer than my Jane-minding abilities," she expressed, clearly annoyed. "Not that that's even a thing, that man has a mind of his own and can't be controlled"

"Yes true, you're also a damn fine agent, but also one without any official Federal training," he explained. 'Now Jane's somewhat unorthodox approach saw the end of the 10 plus year reign of a mass murderer, as well as exposed a society of corrupt law enforcement that stretched half-way across the country"

"Yeah, that didn't exactly go down by the books, did it?" she pointed out frankly.

"We know Jane is a risk, but the upside we can't ignore. The best we can do is to put our best measures in place to have him work for us as efficiently and effectively as possible," Abbott justified.

She stared back at him silently.

He sighed. "You're the only one who seems to be able to have any form of influence over him, agent. In his time with you, he closed every case you were ever assigned. You understand the chaotic way in which he operates, how to push his buttons, and how to best mitigate the fallout as issues arise. Cho and the team need your support on this one. We all do," he said peering over her glasses at her. The look she bred back towards him was one that was border lining on malice.

"Do we have an understanding?" he finished.

"Yes, sir," she responded through gritted teeth.

"Good," he replied, "Now, I'm also not naïve enough to think that there is no historic or present romance between the pair of you…"

"No, never, sir," she said with an absolutely steadfastness that surprised him. He looked at her eyes and her expression and nodded, "Ok, I see that I've incorrectly assumed. My sincerest apologies."

It really got under her skin when people assumed that of her and Jane. Yes, they were close. Yes, there might be some feelings there that she wasn't quite ready to admit to. But it didn't give people the right to assume.

"Thank you, Agent Lisbon," he said pointedly, "You're dismissed"

"Oh and Lisbon," he added as she made it to the door, "can you do something about his presentation? We expect a certain image at the bureau. Take the rest of the afternoon once the Blunt paperwork is square, if we don't get a case."

She returned to the fishbowl to finish her pizza with the team to find Jane gone. She was distant. She hated that her professional reputation was so heavily influenced by Jane. She reasoned to herself there were both upsides and downsides to that. Not many special agents in charge could brag a 100% close rate, if there even was any. She helped Cho pack up and put the leftovers in the fridge. It was odd having leftovers, they'd never have any leftovers when Rigsby was around. She crossed the bullpen to her desk.

Almost as if he could feel her animosity towards him with his back turned and eyes closed, Jane hopped off his couch and ambled over towards Lisbon, as she stood organising papers by her desk.

"Hey Lisbon," he said, with one of the cheekiest grins she'd seen him muster, "I have a little something for you."

She looked over at him apprehensively, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Knowing Jane, whatever it was, there was little chance she was going to like it. He grinned harder, her trepidation apparently bringing him much amusement.

"Just something as a welcome back present, welcome back to my life… or maybe a condolence," he shrugged. "A peace offering if you will, a gift of apology you can use for the top reason why you're mad at me. I know it must be quite a list[4]."

From out of nowhere, almost as if by magic, he produced a tiny row of white elephants, evidently hand-carved from a dense wood, delicately painted white to give them a porcelain look. Five elephants in total, linked from trunk to tail, largest to smallest, the former being the size of her palm down to the smallest not wider than her pinky finger. The leader bore an intricate wreath of bright yellow sunflowers upon its head.

"Jane? What..." her eyes darted up to his and back to the ornate gift within her hands.

"It's just a little something I picked up on my travels," he added as he carefully gauged her reaction.

She traced her finger over the shape of the elephants, from tusk to tail, and onto the next one. Her mind briefly flashed, glimpses, passing images, nothing quite too solid or in focus. It confused her slightly, until the echo of her mother's laughter rang through her memory. He noticed her lost in deep thought, not quite able to read what was going through her mind, so he started explaining.

"At first, it reminded me of family. These guys are a little family, linked together, sticking together. The five of them, like our little CBI gang, as you've pointed out, we're like family. You, Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt really did become like my family. The people I surrounded myself with, the people that were there for me, that I could count on, when I had no-one else in the world. I was so empty and so broken after he took everything away from me, and you guys carried me through that"

He continued to watch her reaction. She was silent, but continued to stare at the material gift in wonder, running her fingers slowly, softly back and forth over it.

"A symbol of strength, Teresa, there is no-one I know who is stronger than you. Through everything you've been through, through your years growing up and through everything you've had to endure since I've joined the CBI. I put you through hell, but you never faltered, you always lead strongly, stood by me."

She looked up at him, her eyes slightly misty but she gave a little grin, before looking back down to the row of elephants in her hand.

"And their leader, the sunflowers. Sunflowers are a symbol of hope. Above all else, there is always hope. With you, there is always hope. You have been my hope, my strength, my family for the last twelve years."

"Thank you, Jane," she faltered and cleared her throat. "This is really sweet," she said, toasting her gift to him.

He reached out and cupped his hands around hers, and looked her dead in the eye.

"No. Thank you, Teresa," he replied so earnestly it was nearly unsettling. The intensity of his eye contact, his baby blues ablaze made her feel a little uncomfortable, but she couldn't look away.

Sensing her discomfort, Jane gently tapped her hand and gave her one last grin, before stretching out on his new old couch. He clasped his hands together, resting them comfortably across his middle and closed his eyes, a faint grin still adorned on his face. The sight of him brought upon a wave of nostalgia.

She stared at him with unabashed wonder as she held the disturbing thoughtful gift within her hands. He had the ability to trigger such a pendulum of fierce emotions within her, to unequivocally infuriate her and to make her heart swoon, all within instants of each other. She placed the row of elephants upon her desk, and tilted her head at them, admiring them some more. She wasn't quite sure why they triggered such fierce memories in her either, she wondered if Jane had had a clue when he procured the gift. Knowing him, it wouldn't have surprised her, despite not bringing it up and despite not understanding it herself.

She watched his chest rise and fall, and smiled. She left him to snooze as she turned her attention to her Form 41s, and wondered what he'd think of their impending shopping adventure.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wake up" Lisbon's voice jolted him conscious as he was met with the familiar thud on the side of his couch.

He tore his eyes open slowly and stretched, looking at her through squinted eyes, "We got a case?" he asked groggily.

"Abbott agrees Hawaiian psychic bum is not the bureau's speed. I have orders to take you shopping. We've got the rest of the afternoon."

"Shopping? What will shopping accomplish Lisbon? Does anyone really care how I dress? How does that help me fight crime?"

"The FBI has a certain image to maintain. Come on, it might even be fun. We can you get something to wear on your off time too so you're not always in a damn suit."

"What's wrong with my suits? I thought you liked them?" he asked, faintly hurt.

She looked him up and down and screwed up her nose in disgust as she shook her head slightly.

"Really?" he asked at her reaction. "Hmph, ok fine, but only on one condition."

"Uh no, no conditions, this is a direct order from Abbott"

"I'm going to skip the curiosity that is Abbott being so deeply invested in my wardrobe choices that he sends a highly qualified agent on a pithy shopping assignment, and point out that I'm merely a consultant. I consult on cases. This is not a case, no consultation needed. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return to my nap."

He coiled into the fetal position and nuzzled further into the leather comforts of his couch as he closed his eyes.

"Fine," Lisbon retorted.

"Fine what?" he answered without moving.

"Your condition, out with it, let's hear it," she said crossing her arms, her lips forming a tight line.

He sat up abruptly, a keen twinkle in his eye.

"I'm not saying I'll agree to it," she retracted, disarmed by his enthusiasm.

He imitated her serious stare jokingly. She couldn't help but roll her eyes and crack a small smile.

"Well if you're helping me pick out my new attire, it's only fair that I get to pick something out for you too"

She narrowed her eyes at him and furrowed her brow. "Like what?" she asked with trepidation.

"I'll know it when I see it," he said happily as he jumped up off the couch. "Shall we?" he said gesturing towards the elevator.

"You know, I haven't agreed to anything," she argued as they walked off.

"Oh come on Lisbon, it's only fair," he reasoned. "Besides, I have excellent taste."

"Ok fine," she hastily relented. A means to an end. Anyway, she didn't have to wear whatever he might choose, they just have to buy it.

"And yes, you'll have to wear what I choose, you don't get off that easily," Jane humored her, somehow reading her thoughts as the elevator doors closed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The strip mall offered numerous garb sales fronts, none really to his taste or style. But the prospect of Lisbon having the opportunity to dress him was intriguing to say the least. She never seemed to be the type overly interested or concerned with fashion or appearance, and favored more of a practical approach. He doubted he'd be pushed into anything too gaudy.

They entered an upscale men's clothing store, with racks upon racks of button-ups and polos, an unimpressed look firmly plastered across Jane's face as the stubborn child in him kicked in.

"Okay, have at it," she instructed, "go pick some stuff out," she said with a flutter of her hand.

"Nah," he dismissed, skeptically glancing around at the racks, "I think I'm good."

"Don't be so difficult," she said with a scowl as she dived into the closest rack to her.

"Here," she said as she thrust a cotton business shirt at him in a pale blue, which he obligingly grabbed.

He followed her around the store, a woman on a mission, taking no prisoners. Well, except him perhaps. Her arms frantically sorting through racks and piles on tables, shoving her selections into his increasing full arms.

"This," she hummed, as she added a pair of Levi's to his pile.

"Really?" he asked pulling a face. "I haven't worn jeans since disco died," his objections going ignored.

By the time she was done, he could barely see over the arm full of clothing he had accumulated. An array of business shirts, slacks, chinos, jackets, and some casual wear formed the Mount New Look before him.

"Off you go," she instructed, pushing him in the direction of the dressing room. "Don't forget to come out and model them for me," she taunted.

He ducked around the curtain to a cubicle and dumped her assorted selections on the armchair in the corner. It had been a while since he had seen himself in a full length mirror. He was indeed quite the sight. Reluctantly, he could see why Abbott assigned and insisted on the retail mission, though he would never admit that to Lisbon. He'd never see the end of the gloating. He twisted in front of the mirror, observing himself from the sides, as his old suit hung off of him somewhat like elephant skin. He reminded himself of a child dressed in hand-me-downs that were well-worn but still sizes too big.

He slid out of his blazer and shirt, and caught his own eye again in the mirror. South America had agreed with him, at least where his physique was concerned. His bi-daily swims left his chest and shoulders far more toned than he'd been used to seeing on himself, even in his younger days. The sun had kissed his skin to a nice bronze that hadn't yet faded, making his hair seem more golden and his eyes pop. His pleased reaction to his physique was reflected in a smug smirk on his face. He started with Lisbon's first choice, a soft blue cotton business shirt, and paired it with a dark pair of slacks. Both, to his surprise, fit perfectly, leading him to think that Lisbon paid more attention to his body than he realised.

He exited the changing room in his new garbs to find Lisbon leaning against a pillar, bashing away at her Blackberry.

"So?" he asked, announcing his presence.

"Hang on a sec," she said glancing up for a moment, before returning to finish her message. Or so she tried. As quickly as she glanced away, she looked up again.

He looked incredible. The button-up shirt hugged his broad shoulders, highlighting his masculine chest that was far more defined than she had ever known or imagined. The blue brought out the colour and sparkle in his eyes, the well-fitted outfit paired with the gruffness of his slight beard painting a roguishly handsome picture.

"That good, huh?" he cheekily asked as he spun around slowly to give her the full picture.

She'd grown lax with her daily poker face in the charlatan's absence and kicked herself in reminder that she needn't plaster all her thoughts so obviously readable on her face, especially in the mind-reader's return. As he turned, she couldn't help but let her gaze wander down to his well-formed derriere, the new slacks hugging it in all the right places. To her horror, she didn't dart her eyes up quick enough as he faced her again, a proud and pompous smirk creeping across his face as he caught her wandering eyes. She felt her cheeks grow red.

"Okay, so these go in the 'yes' pile," he announced smugly.

"Yes, ahem," she attempted to recover, "they'll do just fine."

"You know, Lisbon, there's no shame in those thoughts. You are merely human after all," he teased.

"What thoughts?" she hissed in defense.

"Oh come on, you really need me to say it out loud," he said with a wink.

She flushed again and she hastily looked down at her boots, futilely hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Go try on the next outfit," she dismissed him

"Yes ma'am," he replied as he strutted back into the cubicle.

Good lord, what was that? She thought to herself as she tried to shift her attention back to her Blackberry. Embarrassed she had reacted in such an odd, carnal fashion, her cheeks still radiating heat. This was Jane. She'd worked side-by-side with him for a decade and she wasn't a stranger to his good looks. But never could she remember feeling such a heat around him. She shook her head in reassurance and continued to read her emails.

"Hey Lisbon," he stuck his head out of the curtain with a grin, "need your help." He beckoned her with his finger.

She dropped her shoulders and marched over to oblige without giving it a thought, ducking around the curtain and ensuring it was pulled shut as she entered.

"Which shirt?" he asked. "I don't normally wear pants like this. Do they seem okay? And which shirt would you pair with it?"

She turned to face him. In each hand, he held a shirt on a coat hanger, and between that was him. Shirtless. In all his bronzed chiseled glory. Her jaw dropped a little and she froze on the spot.

"You're not wearing a shirt," she blurted out awkwardly.

"Once again, great detective work Agent Lisbon," he said with a playful eye roll, "I want you're your opinion on which one to try on next."

"I, uh, um," she stammered as her cheeks flushed, much to his enjoyment.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he asked with a furrowed brow and a smirk. "My apologies."

"No," she quickly replied. She cleared her throat to gather herself. "That one," she said confidently, pointing at the shirt in his left hand, though her eyes were still glued to his physique.

"Are you sure?" he replied, examining the shirt.

Her mouth was dry. Her heart was pounding. In the years they'd worked together, she'd hardly seen a bare shoulder, let alone him completely shirtless like this. She was frustrated. Frustrated with her own body for betraying her like a hormonal teenager and reacting in such a primal manner, and frustrated with him for knowingly putting her in such a situation. But yet, she had trouble tearing her eyes away. At least she could still exercise a sense of self-control, although it took every iota of her willpower to not run her hands over his bare chest, through his curls, trace his muscles with the tips of her fingers…

"Are you okay?" his question interrupting her reverie, as she snapped back to his eyes, his pensive blue glare reflecting his triumphant amusement. He was clearly enjoying this effect he was having on her, and she was doing a very, very poor job at hiding it.

"You're half-dressed, it's hardly appropriate me being in here," she said trying to recover some kind of air of professionalism. After all, she was technically on the clock, following orders.

"This was Abbott's idea," he said placing shirts back on hooks

"Yes, the new clothes. Not being with you half-naked in a dressing room"

"Eh, all part of the mission," he dismissed. "Argh!" he exclaimed in pain, and quickly grabbed at his finger.

"What happened," she asked with concern.

"I got my nail caught," he cringed, and looked at the damage, "Dammit, I've nearly torn it half off"

"Dangers of the job," she teased, "did you need me to get a medic down here?"

"I'll live," he said morosely, "man that stings."

She giggled. He had never been known for stoicism. "Did you need me to get you a band-aid?"

"Yes, but all in due course." He shrugged on the next shirt. "Mind if you help with these buttons?" he asked her, "I'm injured."

"Really?" she asked disingenuously, "you just broke a nail."

"Yes, really. I don't want to get any blood on this new shirt and it's awfully clumsy to try and do up buttons with one hand," he whinged. She glared at him, unimpressed. "Fine, I'll make do," he relented, awkwardly attempting to do up his first button very half-heartedly.

She rolled her eyes. "Come here then," she said exasperatedly as she took a step towards him. One by one she started to do up the buttons. She felt her heart start to race as he stared at her intently, which was even more disarming in such close proximity. She could feel his glare. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as her fingers hovered ever so close to his chest as she threaded the button, desperately ignoring the fleeting thoughts about what she wanted to do to his chest moments earlier. Methodically she worked her way down, button by button, her heart thumping in her ears.

"There," she announced some what triumphantly as finished with the last button. Without thinking she smoothed the shirt down at his chest, running her two hands over the soft fabric upon his toned chest. She looked up at him a little surprised with her action, only to be met by that devilishly perfect smile. Her cheeks flushed more, if that was even possible.

"Thank you, Agent Lisbon," he whispered, with a sarcastic emphasis on the 'agent'.

They held their gaze for a few moments longer than anything anyone could consider to be remotely platonic. Such a charged tension between them that they had both grown used to denying or pretending didn't exist for so long. Standing so close to each other, her palms upon his chest, her cheeks still red from her lustful thoughts as she bit down on her bottom lip.

If only either one of them were a little more courageous, a little more gluttonous, a little more susceptible to their well-guarded feelings and inner desires. If only. But alas, this wasn't the case.

Lisbon took a step back and cleared her throat. "I think that's enough trying on, they all seem to fit you okay."

"Just okay?" he teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Hush," she admonished reflexly, "you can wear those out the store, I'll go find the shop attendant," she said as she pulled back the curtain.

"Lisbon, wait," Jane stopped her, a sense of urgency in his voice. She turned and faced him, one hand on the velour drapes. "Don't forget my band-aid," he said wiggling his finger in front of that devastating grin. She rolled her eyes and smirked and continued on her way.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They later left the store, arms laden with bags filled with threads for a new life, injured finger freshly adorned with an all-fixing band-aid, Jane walking beside Lisbon with a little spring in his step.

"Snack break?" Jane asked as they marched past a pretzel vendor.

"No, we're not done yet," she dismissed.

"I know, I still haven't picked anything out for you," he pointed out.

She sunk her head into her shoulders and groaned. "I'm not talking about that, you need a new suit. One that actually fits," she pointed out.

Jane stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned to face the window of a ladies' boutique store.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "This is it."

She turned her gaze to the mannequin in the window sporting a knee-length, pencil-cut white dress adorned with floral splashes and a sweetheart neckline.

"It's a dress," she said with her nose screwed up in utter disgust. "It has flowers on it."

"Thank you for that observation. With the insight and wisdom you provide, it's a wonder they keep me around at all," Jane replied before grabbing her arm and dragging her into the store.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know," she pointed out smugly. "And I'm not really a dress person, Jane. In case you haven't noticed."

"Nonsense," Jane dismissed

She scowled in indignance.

"Excuse me," Jane ignored her indignance and flagged down the attention of a shop attendant busily arranging a display. "Where would I find that gorgeous floral dress in the window?" His enthusiasm made her scowl deepen.

Despite her intrepid protests, Jane managed to will Lisbon into a changeroom with a mimicking "don't forget to come out and model it for me," just as she had done earlier.

Before long, she came shuffling out of her cubicle, shoulders hunched, arms clenched across her chest.

"Oh come one Lisbon, you're being a tad melodramatic. It's not that bad," he reasoned in exasperation.

"Oh it is", she huffed in response, "but that's not it. Can you help me with the zipper? I can't quite reach it."

She turned to present him with her issue. The long zip starting an inch below the small of her back, the bodycon nature of the dress making the zip fastening a challenging task.

"Yeah, of course," he said immediately jumping up.

She swept her hair to one side and placed her chin to her chest. Her bare skin on her back was also something he wasn't used to seeing, especially as far down as the zip led. He was suddenly perturbed by the tension, losing his air of confidence as he grabbed the zip between his finger and thumb. Slowly he trailed the zip upwards, over the small of her freckled back and up to her bra-line. He inhaled cautiously, noticing the goosebumps appearing across her delicate skin.

"Thanks," she offered as she turned to face him, pleased to see she wasn't the only that was unnerved by the whole affair.

"I look ridiculous," she pouted as she looked in the mirror.

"No," he whispered hoarsely, "you look beautiful. Perfect."

She blushed at his words.

"Definitely taking it," he said, shaking himself out of his stupor. Teresa was a beautiful woman. There was no arguing it or denying it, but very rarely did she allow the feminine side of her to show. As much as he adored her in the badass, practicality of her work wear, there was something ultimately majestic about her in softer attire. It was easy to forget that under all that bravado was a petite and sensual woman, one that he simply adored in all forms.

He smiled to himself as she hurried back into the change room indifferent to his transparent approval. Never did he think he'd have this much fun shopping.

"UGH!" he heard a shout, followed by the all familiar, "JANE!"

He stuck his head past the curtain, "you called?"

"Yeah, the zipper," she indicated with a frustrated finger.

"You could just wear it out of the store, you know," he pointed out, "I'm wearing what we bought."

"There'll be a cold day in hell before I wear this around a shopping mall," she protested. "Zip. Now."

"Ooh so bossy," he retaliated with flair. "Fine, I'll just have to take you somewhere you'd be happy to wear it. A nice dinner perhaps?"

"Don't push your luck," she scolded.

He relinquished the zip, fighting off images of what it might be like to do so in a different setting. Perhaps in a nice hotel room, or back at her place. He bit his lip with yearning indignance.

"Thanks, now shoo," she instructed as she pushed him out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One more shopping bag heavier, he left the boutique with an annoyed but compliant Lisbon, rather pleased with his choice of purchase and amused with the reactions he elicited from her.

"Okay, are we done here?" Jane asked as they wandered the mall once more.

"Not quite," she replied leading them to a formal wear store a few stores down. "New suit, remember?"

"Well, if the lady insists," he said slyly, gesturing for her to lead the way into the store and guiding her through with his hand on the small of her back.

Though he strongly objected to the ill-fitting nature of a store-bought suit, he had joined the realisation that his old customs didn't do anything to his current figure. They were quickly assisted to pick out a couple of suitable suits, and once more Jane was marched towards the changerooms to try on the most recent selections.

The changerooms here were much more dapper and luxurious than the last store, the vibe matching the formal wares they offered. A plush bench to one side and a solid door separating them from the showroom floor. He admired his new digs once more, before kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his bottoms, pulling on the new suit pants compliantly. The cool material brought back slight twangs of memories, as he astutely buttoned them up and pulled up the zip.

A series of thuds echoed from the dressing room door. "Jane, you decent?"

"Yeah," he replied, swinging open the door. "What do you think?" he asked as he picked up the blazer and held it over his shoulder.

"I think you need this," she said, holding up a vest and allowing the door to swing shut behind her.

"In Austin, you think? It's really quite warm"

"I've always liked your vests," she said quietly, biting her bottom lip.

He looked at her curiously. "Then a vest I shall need," he said with a lowered voice and a flirty grin.

She held up the vest for him as he spun to put his arms through. He shrugged the familiar garment on and faced her, mirroring her shy grin.

"Here," she said as grabbed each side of the open vest and pulled him in towards her, starting with the buttons voluntarily. A familiar tension filled the air between them. He watched her as she worked each one, her brown curls framing her slightly pink cheeks, her green eyes sparkling with the exciting intensity of it all. He smiled at her intrepid enthusiasm.

She looked up at him, noticing his inquisitive gaze.

"What?" she asked with self-conscious reticence.

"Nothing," he supplied a little too quickly. He would never admit to how he was desperately locking away these moments in his memory palace, supplementing the older memories they shared that he had relived over and over again on the island.

She raised her eyebrows in askance, but didn't probe any further, as she turned her attention back to the buttons.

A lock of hair battered the side of her eyelashes. He couldn't help himself but reach out and tuck the stray curl behind her ear with the backs of his fingers. A tingle through his fingers echoed in his heart as he brushed across the softness of her cheek in the surprisingly intimate gesture. Just as he'd unnerved her earlier, he felt somewhat taken aback by his own biological reactions, the way his heart raced, the cold shivers down his neck, the dryness of his mouth.

She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, feeling a mixture of relief and empowerment that she seemed to have a similar power over him. She didn't even bother to try and suppress her spike in interest as his fingers gently brushed against her cheek, and traced behind her ear and down her jawline to her chin, as she closed her eyes and leant into his hand, whimpering softly.

He looked down at her thirstily, his pupils dilated, teetering on the brink of self-restraint, as his eyes darted to her lips. The tension from their fleeting moments had reached breaking point. In that moment, she too was lost, her brain and logic reasoning a million miles away, happy to give into what came next, and be damned of the consequences.

He cupped his hand behind her ear and pressed his forehead against hers. He breathed heavily in a bleak attempt to compose himself, his anticipation triggered trembling mirrored within the petite brunette before him.

His lips parted in a hoarse whisper, "I.. I just need to know," he managed to utter.

"How are we doing in there folks? Can I help you with sizes or anything else?" A voice from the other side of the door shattering their live daydream from playing out in reality.

Lisbon's eyes flew open as she took a step away from him, pushing his chest back with her palm. A wave of vulnerability and fear reflected in her emerald-green eyes.

"No," Jane called back to the voice, "we don't need anything else in here, we have everything we need" he replied, his thirsty glare still fixated on Lisbon, who suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable and was avoiding eye contact at all costs.

They laughed uncomfortably at each other, as Jane scratched the back of his head and the awkwardness within the cubicle grew.

To break the din, she grabbed the jacket off the bench seat and helped him into the jacket. "See," she proudly exclaimed, going straight back to how they were before, completely pretending that nothing beyond the realms of their comfort zones had happened. "Much better"

He observed himself in the mirror, the beaming FBI agent standing beside him. He hadn't recovered as quickly as she had, but her deliberate avoidance spoke volumes. What was he thinking? They were barely friends again after such a long absence and he was already pushing the boundaries. But it was like he simply couldn't help it, this unique magnetic pull she had over him that made him lose all sense and reason. The guards he once had in place seemingly completely obliterated. Perhaps it was lucky for the both of them that hers were still more convincingly in place.

He was surprised the suit fit him so well without so much of a measuring tape in sight. He grasped at his vest, somewhat tickled that it was something that she had liked and appreciated on him for so long.

"I'll let you get changed," she said as she squeezed his arm and went to leave the cubicle.

She looked back at him, his lost glare still in a haze from earlier almost-beens. "I think we're done here," she said with self-assuredness, before leaving him alone in the cubicle.

He sat with his head in his hands, not sure what to take from her parting words. He sighed.

Nothing worth having comes easy.