Thank you to everyone for your kind responses. I hope the rest lives up to expectations - and apologise for any OOC-ness. I've tried my best to remain true to them, though.

Part Two

Until the fateful day arrived, Jane appeared to require constant reminders that the class was coming up and was seemingly determined to make it even more of a chore than it already was. Even whilst they were driving to the teacher's dance studio, Lisbon and Jane were bickering about who was to dance with whom. Lisbon, frankly, still found the whole thing preposterous - especially that Minelli would be willing to waste away money on something as frivolous as dance when he they could be using a firing range or something instead.

As usual, Lisbon had turned up in her typical pants and shirt. Why should she need anything else? Besides, they never knew if they'd suddenly be called away. Criminals don't take a break just because cops were taking bloody dancing lessons to 'improve trust within the unit'. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised when Grace Van Pelt approached her quite shyly with a spare skirt, stating that her work pants could be quite impractical for the class ahead. It didn't stop her gawping when the younger woman had asked her if she'd brought any high heels, however.

Still fuming, Lisbon rushed to the toilets where she slipped into Grace's spare skirt. Despite the difference in height, there wasn't too much difference in the size and it was just a bit longer than it would have been on it's owner. It was strange how that Van Pelt had known that her boss wouldn't have bothered with a skirt, yet Lisbon didn't bother questioning it. Tentatively, and feeling very self-conscious about the whole debacle, she left the toilets only to be pounced upon by Jane. He immediately slipped an arm through hers, beaming.

"That skirt looks lovely on you, Lisbon," he whispered in her ear. "Van Pelt chose well."

Lisbon blushed, thoroughly relieved that Van Pelt had also handed her a pair of tights. She never wore skirts, if she could help it. With the career she had they were a hindrance - she'd struggle to take down a man twice her size if she was squeezed into a skirt and a nice pair of heels. They were saved for the odd occasion when she absolutely had to dress up.

As she expected, the teacher tutted and sighed at the clash of practical work shoes and skirt. She had already wrestled a rather bemused looking Cho into hold whilst Van Pelt was continually adjusting where Rigsby had placed his hands. Patiently, the woman showed them the most basic steps to a waltz, before turning on the music and leaving them to their own accord.

Van Pelt must have had the patience of a saint to dare try dancing with Rigsby. However, they both appeared to be smiling widely. At least they were enjoying themselves. Cho, as focussed as ever, picked up the moves with relative ease. Lisbon just crossed her arms and glared at Jane, daring him to take a step closer.

He did, and gently unwound her arms whilst she rolled her eyes theatrically. Lisbon's mind was running through the 1001 more practical things she could have been doing at that very moment rather than having Patrick Jane threatening to dance with her. Carefully, he placed her left hand on his right shoulder, and took the other one with a gentle clasp to hold her in the a basic frame. She was still insisting on standing far too far away from him for them to be able to get any semblance of elegance between them.

"You're problem is," Jane whispered conspiringly into her ear. "Is that dancing with someone else means you're not in control. You hate that."

"Rubbish," she retorted, loudly enough for their teacher to send them a scathing glare that Lisbon herself would have been proud of. "I'm perfectly fine with this."

"Liar."

Lisbon frowned, but eventually complied grudgingly, as Jane pulled her in closer, his hand nestled expertly between her shoulder blades. Automatically, she tensed up her entire body and he smiled knowingly at her which only succeeded in annoying her further. She glanced over at Rigsby and Van Pelt. The poor woman was obviously having trouble helping the gentle giant find any fathomable sort of rhythm at all, yet it seemed to bother neither of them. Only Cho seemed to be having any success. Lisbon expected that was mainly because he was dancing with the poor woman who had the task of teaching them at all.

"You stood on my toe, woman."

Lisbon snapped immediately from her reverie. She'd barely noticed that Jane had been leading her around the room in a slow waltz with expertly placed footwork. Lisbon still wasn't entirely comfortable with this, but was determined not to make a show of it. Besides, Jane seemed to know exactly what he was doing and following his command was, in this situation, entirely natural.

"I learned from my wife," he whispered the answer to the question that was on her lips. "She refused to marry me until I knew how to execute the perfect waltz."

Lisbon froze and immediately disentangled herself from Jane's arms. Everyone in the room stopped briefly, before realising it was only Lisbon and Jane stopping and they had to start arguing sooner or later. They'd probably have been more concerned if they hadn't caused any problems. Anyway, Van Pelt was determined to make sure Rigsby managed to get at least three steps right before the end of the session and Cho was quite enamoured by the teacher.

"Don't be silly," he whispered once the rest of the team were sufficiently distracted. "Come here."

Lisbon rolled her eyes as he took her back into hold. He started off slowly, allowing her to tentatively search out the steady beat of the music for herself. Once he was certain she felt more confident in what she was doing, he began to talk again.

"Dance is an early art form, a representation of emotions…"

"A mating ritual," Lisbon put in, not entirely helpfully.

"My wife was always particularly taken by the international standard waltz." His voice was soothing, reassuring. "She firmly believed that a man that could dance was not afraid to show his inner emotions. It's an acceptance - to lead or to be lead. That no two dances were ever the same. And that very fact is where the beauty lies within it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So you can understand why."

The music had long since stopped, but they hadn't noticed. Jane continued to lead Lisbon around the dance floor with methodical ease. Some would say they were simply caught in the moment. This meant that the others simply didn't have the heart to stop them. Van Pelt even dared to lean in closer to Rigsby and whisper to him about just how sweet she found it.

"Yeah, but she'll kill him when she realises."

Rigsby's inoffensive response was louder than he expected and was enough to disturb them. And he was quite accurate. Lisbon practically threw Jane off of her and stormed out of the room, breathing heavily. Van Pelt was sorely tempted to rush after her boss, but held back, whilst the teacher simply decided that a hodgepodge gaggle of cops were not worth any more of her time.

"What did you do with her?" Rigsby asked. The man could probably charm the venom from a snake, which when it came to Lisbon, it was a pretty damn close comparison.

"Meh, she just needs to learn that sometimes a dance is just a dance."

"You don't believe that, do you?"

Grace sounded incredulous and certainly unwilling to believe that the closeness she had just witnessed between her boss and their consultant was simply 'just' a dance. Jane shrugged whilst a wicked smile slowly broke out across his lips.

"Besides, she'll kill me when she finds out that this was my suggestion in the first place."

She stood outside of the dance hall, trying in vain to dry off her eyes with her shirt sleeve. Lisbon knew she shouldn't let Patrick Jane get underneath her skin, but she couldn't help it. Anyone else she could stand up herself against fearlessly and use her stubborn streak to her advantage. Jane, however, just wound her up so much and slipped in under her guard if she even let it drop for a second. And it didn't help that he made her feel like a woman, rather than one of the guys. Yes, he teased her mercilessly and got on her nerves but he still made the idea of going into work that bit more enjoyable.

"Boss?"Lisbon jumped slightly as she heard Grace Van Pelt call for her gently and then place a hand on her shoulder. Smiling weakly, the younger agent handed her a clean tissue, which Lisbon accepted gratefully. Van Pelt knew what a dominant woman her boss could be, and was still slightly scared and a little bit in awe of her. It shook her to see the woman she admired so much to be so shaken, especially over a man. And not just any man. Patrick Jane.

"I brought your stuff out, too," Van Pelt whispered. "The others are clearing up. Who knows how we managed to make so much mess - I blame Rigsby."

"Thanks, Van Pelt," Lisbon whispered appreciatively. She snorted derisively as she mopped up the dampness around her eyes. "Look at me, what are you meant to think?"

"I think you're a great leader," Van Pelt replied honestly, before continuing more softly. "You are allowed to show more emotions than just rage, boss. It's not going to stop me respecting you."

"You're sweet," she replied. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

TBC...