A/N: This chapter is 6x13 Black Helicopters – the case, the gifts, snips of direct dialogue, some skews (I know Spackman doesn't hit the same as Fischer though), and a much lighter ending.

Loved this episode (sans the ending), but I always wondered why Jane didn't get Lisbon anything? He has something for everyone on the team, but her?

In this chapter, Jane doesn't forget Lisbon in his gift-giving, and she has her own special nostalgic gift for him (Lisbon gifting Jane was one of the things I loved about this era), which makes them take a little drive down memory lane replacing a somewhat sore memory into a good one.

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Abbott watched his new asset plunge a teabag repeatedly into his cup from across the corridors. A curious but brilliant man, who might have achieved wonders in this world if he wasn't quite so damaged. Abbott noted his gaze was locked in a single direction once more, a particular brunette agent working diligently at their desk.

He'd often called them out as 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' to each other, and was always met with vehement denial. Now he had the opportunity to work with both of them, the strong undertones of their relationship and the clear mutual attraction seemed to be transparent to even the most ignorant of observers.

It was this infinite closeness between the pair that confused him. It was clear they both had feelings for each other and had done so for a long time. It was clear from the moment he set foot in the CBI years before. He often wondered why they would deny themselves the simple gratification. But perhaps that was the point, the denial. Either way, he wasn't sure whether their current status quo was optimum for their work efficiency, but at least the unit was delivering the results he desired.

He wondered how his newest request was going to bid with the consultant, considering it would involve leaving the 'girlfriend' in the dark. Deceit was something he was quite comfortable with, but things always got a little tricky when things concerned Lisbon.

"Jane, a word," Abbott summoned as Jane emerged from the kitchen.

Jane looked up and wandered over obediently, tea in hand, and joined Abbott in his office.

"How are you settling in?"

"Very well," he mused nonchalantly, taking a sip of his tea, "what do you want Abbott."

"Straight to the point as always," Abbott chuckled.

"Well, I can see you're dying to get me to do something, so we might as well get that out of the way," Jane said with a twinkle. "Then I have a surprise for you."

"Okay," Abbott drew out curiously. "I'm going to need your help with a case. We're going to come at it in an out-of-the-box way, something that would be right up your alley."

"Sure, hit me with it," Jane said, curious.

"But this stays in this room. You can't talk to Cho about it, and you especially can't tell Lisbon. It could jeopardise the whole operation, so that's a direct order."

Now he certainly had Jane's attention. He leaned forward with a raised eyebrow as Abbott let the proposed plot unfold.

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The events of the weekend hadn't changed much between them, which was unsurprising to say the least, given their proven abilities to ignore the unignorable. Whilst nothing was declaratively changed there was definitely a different vibe, a different feel, a different tension when they were around each other. Perhaps it was the same tension amplified, or perhaps they were just more aware of it. Either way, passing touches seemed to linger longer, soulful glances across the conference room table were a little more frequent, and they would tend to stand just a little bit closer than normal, if that was even possible.

The territory was new and unfamiliar to Jane, who had relived those moments from that night and that morning over and over in his mind. One of the better times not being able to forget had served him well. She was opening up to him slowly, the wounds from the past few years slowly healing. He continued to fight the constant battle in his head, the part of him that yearned to have Lisbon as a romantic and life partner, and the part that was adamant that she deserved much better than a dark and damaged soul like himself. The conflict bade their pace well.

Jane lay on his back on his leather couch, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the relentless clacks of Lisbon's fingers across her keyboard, completing the usual inanity of paperwork.

"I'd make a good drug lord," he suddenly voiced, thinking out loud.

"Is that so?" Lisbon asked bemused.

"Yeah, it couldn't be that hard, right? The key to it all is being able to read people and situations well, and that's what I do best. Better than anyone really."

"Than anyone? Bit of an arrogant claim"

"People want to think they're the smartest person in the room, when in reality, that's me"

"Well, that's taking arrogant to a new level, but then again, it's you. Why should that surprise me," she surmised, still clacking away at her keyboard. "Drug lords are violent and run things based on fear, how are you going to deal with that?"

"I've killed people before Lisbon, I can be quite ominous if I really wanted to be," he debated.

"Right, or how about the endless times you've hidden behind me, or waited outside, or needed me to save your ass," she scoffed, "more times than I can count."

"Well, yes, I would need muscle. All good drug lords have trusted muscle. You'd be good for that. Like a lethal little black widow, they wouldn't even see you coming, and then BAM!"

"Right, so straight from FBI agent to muscle for the world's most arrogant drug lord? And of course, you'd assume I'd just come along and be your sidekick"

"Guarantee the pay would be better"

"Since when were you in this job for the pay," she retorted, "I'm not even in this job for the pay, I'd make far more in the private sector"

"I'm in this job for the ball and chain immunity deal, so if I'm going to run away, I'll be a wanted criminal anyway. Might as well be one that pays well. And I've never seen an impoverished drug lord"

"What's triggered this current polar opposite in morality compass?"

"Just reading," he said getting up and popping a newspaper down on the corner of her desk. "Another drug trafficking ring dismantled by the DEA and some undercover agents. See if that was me, this never would've happened, you can sniff out undercovers a mile away."

"Right"

"And there's no moral compass switch, I'm all about busting the bad guys and playing Sherlock, just thinking out loud, riding some thought trains. Don't stress."

At that moment, a concerned Cho strode into the bullpen. "We're up," he announced to his lackluster team. "Abbott wants us in the conference room."

"Fishbowl ahoy!" Jane declared as he sprung from his couch.

To their surprise, they saw Spackman's team already sitting there. Must be a big one, Jane thought.

Abbott began to explain the case to them, with all the relevant information appearing on the screen behind them. Edith Firlock, a 53-year old woman, found dead across the Mexican border in Nuevo Laredo. Single bullet to the head. She was a high profile US attorney, thus the higher-ups and powers that be were applying immense pressure for answers. Abbott wanted both teams on the case, given the external pressures, and the fact that the crime scene was in Mexico – dealing with foreign authorities was often difficult and time-consuming.

"Team leaders, Spackman and Cho, you'll head down to Mexico to examine the crime scene. They have a lid on it for now, but knowing them that won't last for long. Cho, take Lisbon and Jane with you, Spackman, chose an agent from your team too. But Williams, you stay here and run those stats, see what they spit out. The rest of you can drive up to Fort Worth, where Firlock is from, see what you can find from her office and home, reach out to any friends or relatives that could explain why she might have been doing there." Abbott instructed.

They all moved out to follow their orders. Jane stopped Wylie down the hall.

"Hey Wylie," he started, "I got you something." He handed Wylie a small parcel wrapped in brown paper and string. "Open it!" he insisted excitedly.

"Oh my god, is that a Tamagotchi!" Wylie exclaimed, his voice jumping an octave in glee.

"Yeah it is, I bought it for you," Jane beamed.

"I loved these things when I was a kid!" Wylie smiled, "well, I've killed my fair share, but I'm going to keep this one alive."

Jane reveled in his excitement, the way his eyes lit up, the childlike fondness he had. He was excited to play this game with the rest of the team.

"What's that?" Lisbon asked as she approached them.

"Jane bought me a Tamagotchi," Wylie explained, barely able to hold his excitement. "Thank you so much!" he said to Jane before walking back to his desk.

"What was that for?" Lisbon asked.

"Always so full of questions Lisbon," Jane started, "does your mind's eye need to know all the happenings of the universe?"

"You're up to something," she scoffed.

"I just bought Wylie a nice gift that I knew would have some nostalgia love to it," he explained. "Why must you insist that I'm up to something?"

"Because you normally are," she insisted, "Now come on, Cho's waiting for us with the others, we're flying to Ciudad Juarez. Charter jet."

"Ooh, fancy," Jane replied and matched her pace towards the elevator.

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They arrived in the area of the crime scene in Ciudad Juarez, a quiet corner of the city that looked somewhat rudimentary and desolate. Small businesses lined the unsealed street, delis, tailors, vendors with fronts made from miscellaneous scrap pieces of metal. A man in a business suit and a large, suspicious mustache greeted them as they exited the car.

"Commander Delgado," he introduced himself as he shook each of their hands. "Thank you for making it down here so quickly, please follow me."

They ambled down the street, to an alleyway that led between the makeshift buildings. Behind the buildings, dumpsters, scraps, old junk, and in the middle of it all, the body of one Edith Firlock, who didn't look how they expected. For a high-profile attorney, her outfit looked more suited to a hemp convention, wearing beige linens and a peace sloganed t-shirt.

"As soon as I heard the victim was an attorney for the US Government, I made this case by top priority," Delgado explained.

"What time was the body found?" Spackman asked.

"About 8am this morning," Delgado answered.

"Lack of blood on-scene suggests that she was shot somewhere else and dumped here," Cho observed. "Any witnesses see the body arrive?"

"None that will talk about it," Delgado replied.

"Clear shot to the back of the head," Spackman pointed out, "Execution-style, could be Juarez cartel?"

"Local police are exploring that option right now, but it's not like the cartel to dump bodies here like this," Delgado explained. "They tend to make people disappear, or there are a few mass grave sites they use off the highway. Dumping in a town like this is not like them."

"Maybe they wanted her to be found? Maybe they were trying to send a message," Lisbon suggested.

"Maybe, but why?" Spackman asked.

"Jane, what's your take on this?" Lisbon asked, turning to the consultant, only to find he was not at her elbow like she thought. "Jane? Did anyone see where Jane went?" Story of her life in a nutshell, she thought.

Almost right on cue, Jane rounded the corner of the alleyway, stuffing his face with something pastry-wrapped.

"Nice of you to join us," Lisbon said coolly.

"You know, Americans think we know Mexican food, but oh my god they have no idea," he said, mouth half full of whatever it was he was chowing down on. "We upsize everything, fry it a little longer, add a little sugar to get the brain pinging, remove and ingredients that might offend the right-wingers and replace it with something they think is good and patriotic. This is amazing!" He brandished the pastry at everyone.

"You want a bite?" he offered Lisbon, who screwed her face up and declined.

"Cho? Anyone? You need to try this, it's the best empanada you'll ever eat," he said offering it around.

"Jane, you're getting crumbs on the body," Lisbon admonished while Delgado looked on in sheer disapprobation.

"Mmmm, sorry about that. This is just… Mexican food the way it should be," he said before turning to Delgado, "I love your country!" he finished with enthusiasm.

"How did you ID the body so quickly?" Cho asked.

"She has a medic alert bracelet there, Edith Firlock, had a severe nut and dairy allergy," Delgado explained.

"That's not what killed her," Jane said, mouth still half full. "It was a bullet to the brain that did it."

"Thanks for that insight," Lisbon murmured.

"That's why they pay me the big bucks," Jane said with a crumby grin, before taking another unashamed bite of his empanada and moaning in appreciation. "Seriously, so good."

Delgado looked at Jane strangely, then across at the other agents. "What kind of law enforcers are you?" he asked confusedly looking back at Jane, who was now licking his fingers clean with gusto.

"Do we know why she was in Mexico?" Spackman asked, ignoring Delgado's plight.

"No, she had no official business down here," Cho said.

"There is also no record of an Edith Firlock ever crossing the border into Mexico," Delgado added, "there's no record of her flying or driving here."

"Well she crossed the border somehow," replied Spackman.

"I'll call Wylie, I'll get him to check the surveillance on our side," Cho said, taking out his phone.

"Williams should be able to help with that too," Spackman added.

"She's wearing a costume," Jane piped up.

"A costume?" Lisbon asked confused.

"Yeah, she's a high-profile attorney. Clear nail polish and the conservative hairstyle suggest that she worked very hard to look well-groomed and authoritative, yet she's dressed like an old fashion hippie. She's undercover," Jane pointed out.

"I'll put a call in up the ranks and make sure we haven't overlooked anything," Spackman said, whipping out his own phone.

Collins crouched to further observe the body, as Jane summoned Lisbon with his finger and walked in the opposite direction down the back of the buildings.

"What is it?" Lisbon asked.

"The street food vendor said, or tried not to say, that there's something illegal in one of these sheds back here they don't want us to find," Jane explained vaguely.

"Oh, you're trying to justify feeding your face with gathering intel?" Lisbon scowled.

"Yeah, that's what I do. And my gosh is the food good. I mean, we gotta learn a thing or two about street food in the states," he said as they looked around. "I think it's this one," Jane said as he pried open a galvanised iron door.

Inside the shed was bags of chicken feed, cleaning materials and tools, boxes of paper goods. Nothing that stood out, it looked like a perfectly normal storage shed.

"What exactly are we looking for Jane?" Lisbon asked.

"How Firlock crossed the border," Jane explained, "here help me with these."

They shifted a few large sacks to reveal an old wooden trap door. Jane unhooked the chain and lifted it open, and Lisbon shone her flashlight into the opening.

"Et voila!" he said proudly, "I'd be willing to put money on this coming out on the US side. Bit dark and dusty for me though."

"CHO!" Lisbon yelled out. Jane just doing what Jane does best. Being an utter pain-in-the-ass, but he was always right about something, and always making breaks in cases that would've taken them days to figure out without him.

"Now there some tamales out there that smelt divine, I'm going to go get lunch to go," Jane said

"Already?" Lisbon asked

"Yeah, you want some? No, what am I saying? Yes of course you want some," he said before she could reply, disappearing before Cho and Spackman made it to the storage shed.

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They flew back to Austin, Jane brought tamales eagerly for all on the charter flight on the way back. The trapdoor hatch indeed had led across the border into US land – a side road off an old, abandoned farm lot and ranch next to a wind farm, just outside the small town of Gentry. There was no further obvious evidence around the other side of the hatch, but plenty of tire tracks, which suggested the tunnel was well used. Forensics found dozens and dozens of samples from within the tunnel, which would take time to hack through, but nothing glaringly obvious.

The team divided up Firlock's case files, both current and past, especially the more heinous ones, that the other part of the team had retrieved from her office, as well as her hard drive and laptop. It was an arduous task, but it was good solid detective work as Lisbon always put it, so she didn't mind. It helped that they had two teams on the task, especially with more than one incredibly apt with computers. What didn't help, as usual, was their eccentric consultant, quietly sipping tea at his couch, while the rest worked hard at their scouring.

"Hey Cho," Jane flagged down his boss as he walked past and beckoned him to his couch.

Cho turned to him in question. Jane tapped the couch next to him, inviting him to sit down. Cho just crossed his arms and glared, Vega by his elbow.

"Suit yourself," Jane said. "I got you something," he said handing him a small brown pouch, closed off with two drawstrings."

"What is it," Cho asked skeptically, knowing better than to trust the consultant with these kinds of things.

"Well, you won't find out until you open it," Jane said, "that's detective 101, I shouldn't be teaching you these things, you're way more experienced in the detectivism stuff."

Cho opened the bag reluctantly. "I got you these at the marketplace," Jane explained.

He tipped the contents of the bag into his hand. "Mexican jumping beans," Cho said with an uncharacteristic half smile.

"I knew you'd love them," Jane said.

"I used to love jumping beans. I totally forgot about them"

Vega looked curiously at the joy on Cho's face. It was something she'd never really seen before.

"How did you know?" Vega asked Jane.

"Well, knowing what people secretly want is what I do," Jane mused, eliciting a haughty scoff from Lisbon's desk as she worked away.

"Really? What do I secretly want?" Vega asked curiously.

"Well, I'll do you one better. I'll get you one, it'll be my little gift to you," Jane smiled knowingly.

"One what?" Vega asked. Jane stifled a wink and a laugh.

Cho walked off and motioned for Vega to come with him.

"Knowing what people secretly want, hey?" Lisbon poked from her desk as they left.

"Yeah, you worried?" he said approaching her desk.

"Why should I be worried?" she asked.

"Well, do you really want me to go around telling people what you secretly really want?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. She felt her face flush slightly as she pouted.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said flatly to her face. "Go on, tell me then, what do I really want?" she said brazenly to his face.

"How about I show you?" he asked with a cheeky smirk.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sure, go ahead," she taunted calling his bluff. They exchanged an extended look of odd glances and raised eyebrows. She finally smirked at him. "Chicken," she whispered lowly.

He shook his head with a grin, defeated, "I've already given you a gift," he started as she remembered the white elephants, "but I do have a little something else," he said with a wink, as he tried to disarm her once more.

"I look forward to it," she said dryly, turning back to her computer unperturbed.

"How are you doing on the case files?" Jane asked Lisbon.

"They were putting me to sleep," Lisbon admitted, "I decided to take a little break and look at her photo-share site. Check this out," she said, showing Jane her computer screen. "These are the last pictures she downloaded, a couple nights before her death."

Jane put a hand against her desk and brought his head down to her level. "A farmers market, lovely," he said.

"I wonder where it is?" Lisbon pondered.

"Well, that's easy, - Gentry," Jane replied.

She turned her head to face him, not realised exactly how close his head was to hers. Her nose barely an inch away from his. The proximity made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she didn't flinch away from it.

He felt her breath on his cheek, with a smirk he realised how close she was and that she didn't seem to mind or look away. It was easy to see why people always thought they were together, he thought. He liked it that way. Less romantic interests for her if they assumed she was taken. Plus he treasured that warming feeling whenever she was in close propinquity.

"Those wind turbines are the same ones you can see from the end of the tunnel in Gentry, from the photos they gave us of the ranch," he explained.

"Okay, so she sees these photos on the Internet, and the next day, she jumps in her car for an all-day road trip? Why does somebody do that?" Lisbon asked.

"Well, that corn on the cob does look very tasty," Jane said, appreciating the next photo. "I think I might make the drive myself, through Fort Worth, retrace her trail, want to come with me?" he asked hopefully.

She gave him a considerate look, "I think I'll pass, see what Cho has to say," she replied.

Jane was disappointed. She could see that in his face. She'd been on many a road trip with Jane, and she didn't really feel like the four-hour drive. She felt like she was letting him get too close, she was getting weaker around him. He was intoxicating, like she became a different person around him, or maybe that was just how she felt as she slowly let her walls down. Either way, she could definitely deal with a little bit of space, and an 8-hour round trip for him might be good for that. She didn't like seeing him disappointed like that though.

Jane ran his proposition by Cho, who was with Abbott at the time. Spackman had a similar idea, wanting to check out a particular gas station on the way, and re-examine a certain area around the tunnel. Curiously, Abbott made the decision to send Jane with Spackman and Cho on the trip all the way down to Gentry pre-dawn the next morning.

"Spackman, a word before you go," Abbott summoned.

"Yes, sir?" Spackman replied.

"Jane is…" Abbott hesitated for a moment, "Jane is a bit unorthodox in the way he goes about solving cases. But he's good. You might have to take a back seat on his whims when you take him out there. If he has a hunch, try and roll with him."

"To a point, sir," Spackman interjected.

"Yes, to a point, but to a point pretty far down the track, yes?" Abbott emphasised. "He found the tunnel quickly from buying food from a local vendor. He'll annoy people for answers. Just try and give him some rope to see what he comes back with, don't be too quick to shut him down. Or do I need to send one of Cho's people with you?"

"No, I can handle it," Spackman reassured.

"Good," Abbott said, "drive safe."

"Shot gun!" said Jane playfully as they approached the car the next morning.

"There's no shot gun, Collins is in the front," Spackman said coldly.

"Perfect!" said Jane happily, "I was shot-gunning the backseat. I need a nap."

And that's what he did, the hums of the car lulling him to sleep for the whole 4-hour journey to Gentry.

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It was around 10am as they pulled up at the Farmers market. Collins and Spackman got to work promptly, showing Firlock's photo around the crowds, looking like real government busy-bodies in their suits and ties. Jane hung back and observed. He was wearing his trusty Lisbon-favourite blue jeans, as well as the light blue shirt she paired with it. He watched as the locals and the market's folk dismissed them quickly, a consistent vibe of annoyance and disinterest amongst the crowd.

Once the duo had successfully planted enough FBI seeds of distrust to his satisfaction, it was his turn to work the crowd. It didn't take him long to establish an authoritative-disinclined-based rapport with Gadsden Grove folk handing out peanut butter samples, and gain an open invitation to visit their farm. Based on the photos Lisbon had shown him, he was sure he'd find all they needed to know there.

He snuck back to the car, peering over his shoulder to the unknowing Spackman and Collins continuing their otiose rounds, oblivious to his current tomfoolery. He chuckled to himself imagining their reactions when they realised he had left them in the middle of Gentry without a ride, as he sped off down the dirt road. They'd forgive him once he caught the killer, he was sure.

Once at the farm, it didn't take him long to recognise a woman from the photos carrying around a distinct amount of guilt and deception. A good night's rest in the clean air would be all he needed to cook up a plan to prove his hunch, and he was sure he was going to need Lisbon's help.

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The next morning, a fuming Spackman met in Abbott's office.

"I know he closes cases strangely, I know you said support him on and take a back seat to his whims. But he abandoned us at the Farmers' market yesterday," Spackman vented exasperatedly. "He's just a menace and needs to be dealt with accordingly!"

"Okay well, let's just think about this for a second. I think Jane is doing his best and making a sincere effort to fit in. I'm sure he had good reason for leaving you there, and he didn't mean it," Abbott reasoned.

"Ah, no he didn't and yes he did," Spackman argued.

"I mean, look what he got me yesterday," Abbott said with a glint in his eye.

He pulled out a one-foot-high metallic robot-looking toy and placed it on his desk for Spackman to see, eagerly.

"A robot?" Spackman spat.

"No, this is not just a robot. This is Voltron. I used to love this when I was a kid," Abbott explained as he began to move the toy's arms around making robot noises with his mouth.

"Abbott…" Spackman insisted, commanding attention. "He ditched me, and Collins in the middle of nowhere."

"Okay, yeah. Well, that's not cool," Abbott said looking up from his toy.

"No! No, that is far from cool," Spackman exclaimed. "Look, where are you going to draw the line? He's only been here a month and he's caused bedlam!"

"And closed every case he's been on in less than 48 hours, that's an efficient month. And still found the time to hunt down this beauty, they're not easy to find any more you know," Abbott argued, making the robot's arms go up and down.

"How far are you going to continue to bend for this man!?" Spackman said, leaning into Abbott.

Lisbon knocked on Abbott's door.

"Hey, I just got off the phone with Jane. He says he needs a black helicopter, a convoy of vans, and whatever you have that looks most like a tank."

Spackman threw his hands up at the flagrant example of Janerisms fall right before him as he needed it. Abbott shrugged his shoulders. Exasperated, Spackman stormed from the office in a huff, scowling at Lisbon on his way through.

"What's his problem?" Lisbon asked.

"He'll be fine," Abbott reassured. "What in the hell were you just talking about?"

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They rode up to Gadsden Grove with all of Jane's demands, sans the tank, which created the perfect ploy for Jane to execute his mind games, not only luring the killer out, but gaining an admissible confession in the process. Rachel Solket, a client of Firlock's from nearly 30-years ago, still on the run from her crimes, surprised by a visit from Firlock and resolute in keeping her sordid past hidden in the most deplorable of ways.

The son-of-a-gun did it again, Abbott thought to himself, pleased that their extravagant convoy all the way out to Gentry didn't cause egg on his face, with an arrest and a confession in a neat little bow ripe for the DA. Such a high profile case and the powers kneeling on him in every direction to be wrapped up so efficiently, the relief and smugness he felt was indescribable. And he had Jane to thank.

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Another case successfully closed, back in the bullpen late in the afternoon, Jane came in armed with boxes. The largest box, he placed on Spackman's desk, obnoxiously pushing past his arms as he tried to work, shoving the box on top of his keyboard and files.

"Watch it, what the hell?" Spackman yelled!"

"That's for you!" Jane said cheerily. "And Collins it's a big one. You can share. I got some for the both of you."

He pranced off without waiting for the pair to open it as Collins approached Spackman's desk curiously. They ripped off the brown paper wrapper to expose a beyblades battle wok with four different beyblades with rip cords. Spackman' eyes twinkled with delight as he thought back to the spinning tops he played with as a preteen, the only kind of bonding he ever really did with his older brother before he moved off to college. He excitedly took it all out of its packaging and started an animated game with Collins his cheers echoing from the opposite end of the bullpen music to Jane's ears. Jane hoped he had mended some bridges. He had enough enemies in life and seemed to find himself in the vein of habitually making more.

Vega walked out of her elevator and over to her desk, to an excitedly waiting Jane sitting in her seat.

"What are you doing?" she asked Jane.

"Good afternoonn to you too young Vega," he replied with a grin. "I got you that thing that you wanted," he said brandishing a wrapped cylindrical package.

Vega threw her saddle bag down and grabbed the package with a reluctant excitement.

She ripped it open to find a well-rhinestoned, glittery fair wand, complete with pink ribbons. Her jaw dropped.

"Right? Right?" Jane goaded.

"How on earth did you know," Vega asked breathlessly, mesmerised by the toy in her hand.

Jane shrugged cockily.

"When I was a girl, I thought I could change so many things if I just had one of these. Make myself invisible, transport myself to magical places," she said wistfully. "I never got one though. My mom thought all that princess stuff was stupid nonsense, she was more hardcore than Dad. He bought me one this one year, mom made me return it."

"Well now you have one, let me know how the magic works," he said with a wink, getting up out of her chair.

"Thanks, Jane," she said with a real genuine smile, as she watched the wand shimmer as she flicked it in her hand.

Jane crossed from Vega's desk towards his own, well his couch, not his desk of course, passing Lisbon at her desk on the way.

"Look at you, a real Saint Nicholas today, aren't you?" she pointed out.

"Mmm," he replied, "nothing wrong with a little bit of magic in people's lives," looking back at Vega toying with her wand like a princess of a child. "And don't worry," he taunted, "I didn't forget about you."

"I wasn't worried and you don't need to get me anything," Lisbon stuck her chin forward as she pointedly replied.

"Oh nonsense Lisbon," he dismissed, "Of course, I couldn't single you out and not get you anything."

"Come with me," he requested with a flick of the head. He was rewarded with a cynical look of skepticism and intrigue.

"What, you really want me to give it to you right here? I thought you might appreciate somewhere, uh, a touch more private," he said with a mischievous grin.

She rolled her eyes and ignored his innuendo. "Jane, why go out of your way and get all these toys for everyone? What's the go? What's the gambit?"

"Working on my karmic balance sheet. Nothing wrong with spreading a little bit of happiness, is there? Why must there be a motive?"

She gave him a look.

"So what, I enjoy the reactions. The guise of altruism. The purity of the happiness. We don't get a lot of that around here, misery every day," he went on to explain.

She smiled, he wasn't wrong. "Okay, give me a second to finish up here. I actually have something for you too."

"For me?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Yes, for you. You don't get to have all the fun," she teased.

"Huh," he replied thoughtfully.

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They headed out the elevator into the parking garage.

"Okay, you go first," Lisbon demanded. "Gimme," she said with an outstretched hand.

"Really? That's the way you ask for a gift. A gift so thoughtfully procured for you. It's just gimme gimme gimme?"

"Why are you stalling? Scared my gift is better?"

"Gift-giving is not a competition Lisbon, I think you're missing the point here."

"Whatever," she dismissed playfully with a high chin, "I know my gift is better."

"Well for starters Lisbon, I can't get you what you truly want, simply because I don't think you even really know what that is."

The depth of his comment caught her off guard. One moment they were having a friendly jousting match, the next he's hitting with her with intrinsic insights. She looked at him, like a deer in the headlights while he inquisitively surveyed her every expression.

"That's not fair, Jane," she squeaked.

"It's not?"

"Things just aren't that simple, you know that."

"Yeah, but why not? Why can't they be that simple?"

She looked down a scuffed her toe into the concrete, a forlorn look in her eyes. They were getting off track, albeit heading in inevitable directions neither of them felt all too comfortable traversing. He sighed and pursed his lips in faux determination.

"So I'll tell you what you want, what you really really want…" he started resembling the Spice Girls tune on that CD he consistently loved to mock her about.

She gave him a small, dimpled grin as her eyes narrowed at him.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small red gift bow and promptly stuck it to his forehead. With a little tap dance and a flourish of his arms, he announced "Ta da!" with pride.

She took one look at him, bow stuck to his forehead below his golden locks, arms in the air shimmying with enthusiasm, and the biggest shit-eating grin on his face to top it all off. She couldn't help but snort with laughter with an affectionate "you idiot."

"Tell me I'm wrong,"

She rolled her eyes and smirked, but it humoured him so that she didn't deny it.

Out of nowhere he pulled out a rectangular parcel, took the bow from his head, and slapped it on the brown wrapping paper, handing it to her with an intense gaze.

She carefully tore off the brown paper to reveal the cover of an old book. She flipped it over to reveal the title, Roald Dahl's 'Matilda.'

"Jane," she breathed, as she looked at him softly.

"An absolute classic. You read it as a child. It was often your escape, especially after your mom died – Matilda's fiery, independent determination in the face of adversity really resonated with you. Her ability to turn her anger of those around her into magic with the potential to help those who need it, who need the confidence, appealed to your deep-seated desire to correct the injustices of the world. It helped get you through the darker times when your father was less himself than usual. It reaffirmed your self-worth when in the times you felt so small. The number of nights this book was your solace, your escape, your lullaby."

As he spoke, it was like she could feel every word within her chest. She glanced at him in wonder, his soft caring smile, the twinkle in his eye from her breathless reaction as her mind slipped into yesteryear. How did he know? How did he just always know?

"You need to stop asking that," Jane mused, his hands stuffed in his pockets rocking from toe to heel.

"Asking what, I didn't say anything?"

"You're wondering how I know, how I always just seem to know things."

"How did you know that?" she asked amazedly.

"What'd I just say? You need to stop asking that."

She smiled. "Jane. I don't know what to say," she semi-choked. "Thank you," she said, pulling him in for a grateful hug and looking back to her book with a wistful smile.

"I'm glad you like it," Jane said with a proud grin and a loving rub of her shoulder.

"Okay, so I wasn't able to wrap it, so you're going to have to trust me here for a minute," Lisbon said suspensefully, carefully sliding her newly acquired gift into her tote. "Close your eyes," she ordered.

He obliged, the corners of his mouth at his ears as she came up behind him, her tiny fingers shielding his eyes from any potential peeking.

She led him through the parking lot clumsily as they giggled, hands firmly across his eyes in determination as she tip-toed to compensate for the height difference.

"Where are you taking me?" he queried.

"Not far, don't stress," she replied.

"Easy for you to say, you're not being led blindly by a pint-sized federal agent. Your hands a very cold too, why is that?"

"Hush, just walk!" she commanded.

"Okay, okay," she said once they had reached a certain corner of the lot. "3, 2, 1," she spurred.

She peeled her hands away and eagerly watched for his reaction.

Before him was the sleek bluey-grey metal of familiarity hunched over its wheels, framed in faultless chrome, his one and only Citroen DS 20, in better condition than he had ever remembered it.

He clapped his hands over his mouth and jumped up in sheer excitement.

"Lisbon!" he exclaimed

"Yeah, the old contraption," she said smugly.

He looked at her with poignant wonder.

"Was a bit trickier than I thought to get here, I had a bit of help retrieving it from your place at Malibu, I'm surprised they never had it towed for evidence. Was a bit worse for wear having sat there for long, the bumper had rusted off and it was all a bit creaky, not unlike her owner, but she seemed to have turned out okay with a little TLC."

"I can't believe it, gosh I've missed her," he gushed in awe.

"Well, I gave you a keyring when you had no real keys to pop on it, so now you do."

She dangled the keys in front of him which he grabbed with a grin, eagerly whipping his lucky key chain from his pocket and threading the car key through the looped metal.

He took a step back and looked at the car again with sheer elation across his face. "Thank you, Lisbon, really. Thank you. This is amazing. I'm ecstatic"

"Hey, it's a gift for Abbott too, it's another pool car back in use now you've got this bad boy to drive around."

"You have to come for a drive with me," he pleaded like a schoolboy. "Come on, for old time's sake."

"I have stuff to do," she excused.

"And it will still be there in half an hour. Please? Pretty please?" He gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

She looked at him with a dimpled pout. "Well okay, only because you asked so nicely."

"If that's all it took to get a yes answer out of you, maybe I should've tried it years ago," he said opening her passenger door and ushering her in.

"Hmm, it's amazing where a bit of straightforward niceness can get you," she purred coolly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Citroen contraption hummed through the Austin streets in the dying light of day. The last time they drove like this side-by-side in this very car the tension in the air was far different. The long drive down to Malibu one Thursday afternoon, Jane's newly acquired shotgun haunting from the back, minds shrouded with uncertain anticipation tainted with an undeniable touch of fear. Driving into a meeting with five men at the place where it all began. What would happen that night was unknowable, the only sure thing was that nothing would ever be quite the same again. But side-by-side they pushed ahead, the end imminent, until, in a twisted act of love and betrayal, he left her to forge on alone.

They curled up the side of the mountain, until eventually coming across a small clearing in the pine trees that provided a pristine vantage point over the city of Austin, as the sun dipped lower in the distance painting the sky with different hues of orange. Jane pulled the car to a halt.

"What are we doing?" Lisbon asked.

"Come on," he said unfastening his seatbelt, "I want to see the sunset."

"Hell no," she said flatly. "Jane, I'm not falling for this again, you're not abandoning me here. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, -"

"I want to see the sunset, with you," he interrupted. He scampered out of the car and around to her door, opening it like a gentleman and offering her his hand.

She looked up at him and screwed up her forehead in askance.

"Here," he said, handing her the keys, "so you know I can't run off."

She snatched the keys from his hand with a smirk and promptly stuffed them into her bra. "Just so you won't be able to pickpocket them back," she explained without question.

"What? You seriously don't think I'd be able to get them from there?" he said with a matching smirk.

"You wouldn't dare," she posed with a raised eyebrow, accepting his hand out of the car.

They wandered out together, staring out into the expanse, admiring the bright glow of the waning sun.

"Beautiful isn't it," he murmured.

"It is," she whispered in concurrence.

He cautiously approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her gently. She allowed her body to sink into his, pulling his grasp tighter and overlapping her hands with his. The warmth and the contact sent shivers up her spine, but yet provided her with ultimate satisfaction in comfort as her body fit against his perfectly. He hummed in approval as she let her head flop against the side of his neck.

They stood there, her completely encapsulated in his arms, admiring nature's show of beauty and cherishing their sweet huddle. No words spoken, their breathing subtly in sync.

"You know, you still have no idea how much you've meant to me. How much you mean to me," his sincere whispers dancing along her ears.

"I think I'm beginning to get a fair idea"

"I'm so sorry for leaving you there like that on that night"

"I get it, it's okay. You didn't want me to be there."

"It's not even that I didn't want you to be there, it's just, I knew how dangerous the situation was going to be. I couldn't let anything happen to you."

"But you know that's my job. And I've always had your back."

"I know. Haffner and Stiles died in that blast, that could have been you too if you were there."

"And who would've been there to pull you out of the wreckage afterward before Smith or Bertram got to you, right?"

"That too."

She exhaled pointedly.

"You know it works both ways, right? You have no idea how much you mean to me too," she said looking up at him.

He looked at her questioningly, analysing her expression. "You're right, I have no idea."

"Thank you for coming back," she said, nesting her head back down on his collarbone, looking back out at the glow.

"Thank you for never giving up on me," he said, planting a soft kiss upon her hair.

She closed her eyes and nuzzled her head into his neck further. He squeezed her a little tighter and watched the sun disappear over the horizon and the orange-glow slowly fade into the darkness of night as the city lights began to sparkle.

"We should probably get going," he said as the last light threatened to disappear.

"Uh yeah," she concurred. "Hey Jane, I've got some stuff to take care of tonight, but tomorrow, after work… you want to maybe come around to mine? We'll get some takeout. Maybe sort, you know, some things out," she proposed, her voice warbly with uncertainty as she almost braced herself for his reaction.

"Yeah," he agreed with a soft smile. "Let's do that."

"Okay good," she breathed, giving a nervous shrug.

With a smile and a longing stare they were soon heading back down the mountain. They sat in comfortable silence, as they often did, although Lisbon couldn't help but have her eyes glued to Jane. Happiness was a good emotion on him, it suited him well. The way his cheeks swelled, and the tips of his mouth crept up. The sparkle of life in his eye and the simple glow he seemed to encapsulate. Seeing him like this made her happy, brought her comfort. It was something she'd never really seen in their time together, something she wasn't even sure he was capable of. Beyond all else, she was beginning to realise its significance and importance.

"So obviously, I win," she eventually pointed out, breaking the din.

"What?" Jane asked.

"I win. My gift to you trumps your gift easily," she elaborated.

"Wait, a minute, I don't think that's right"

"Sure it is, a book versus a car, it's a no-brainer"

"In all fairness, this totally doesn't count as a gift"

"How does it not count?"

"Well, it's my car. It's like me breaking into your house, stealing something that belongs to you and giving it to you a present"

"I did not break into the house!"

"You had to have broken into the car"

"I didn't break into anything! Rigsby did. And that's not even the point. This bucket-of-bolts

"—don't call it that"

"was sitting abandoned in your driveway, subject to the elements, not to mention that vicious salt-laden air from being near the beach. Do you have any idea the money and effort that went into restoring it, plus getting it here all the way from Malibu?"

"—mehhh"

"The people involved, the hours and the money spent…"

"—Oh and I'm thankful. But see, I, after a lot of deep thought and searching, went out and bought you a deep and meaningful gift. You, got someone to steal something that belonged to me, put a bit of spit shine on it, and gave it back to me under the ruse of a gift."

"I'll put a bit of spit shine on you in a minute with that attitude"

And back and forth they went, bickering and bantering into the Austin night.