A/N: Okay, so it's taken me forever. I'm very, VERY sorry. I really have no excuses. This was written ages ago. I just always manage to get busy. I've always got something better to do... like homework, or practicing my lines for the play, or thinking about practicing my violin, or watching videos on youtube, or, well, you get the picture. I have a huge problem with procrastination. So, here I am, FINALLY. It's 7:12 on a Tuesday, so I'm doing this quickly so that I can go watch, you guessed it, The Mentalist! I just figured today would be a pretty good day for me to do this, since I've gotten a little taste of my own, uh, sickness. It's my second day home sick from school due to a monster cold that I got for no particular reason over the weekend. A killer cold mixed with spring allergies is, shall we say, not fun. I was sneezing my head off while trying to shop in the mall on Sunday! Which would have been funny were it not for the awful sinus headache I had on Monday, that carried over into today. So, I've missed two days of school, two tests, a violin lesson, and a play rehearsal, and I know for a fact that I'm going to have homework out the wazoo. So, before I go back to school tomorrow and get said homework, I figured I'd add this last chapter. That way, no more excuses! (See how smart I am?) Let's see, there are a couple other things I know I have to mention in this... oh yeah! Okay, I swear I will reply to your reviews! You are not being ignored! I'm just having the same procrastination problems, and well, frankly, there are quite a few of them! Which is in no way a bad thing! You guys are reviewing! (I hope they're good reviews!) So, thank you so much, and I swear I will answer you, just give me some time! And the other thing I wanted to mention was, who saw the episode where Jane was blind? Did you see that faint? That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen! I mean, that's what they're talking about in books when people describe a person's legs 'falling out from under them'. It was so adorable, I just wanted to rush over and hug him and make sure he was okay. (I think there's something faintly sadistic about the way I enjoyed that so much...) And, of course, watching it, I couldn't help but think, I did that too! That was honestly the mental image I had when I was writing chapter 1! So that made me really happy. Anyway, on to the final chapter of this, uh, "oneshot". Thanks for sticking with it despite my procrastination! You all rock! - GG17

… And Goes Around Again

Rigsby didn't hear his alarm go off, and even if he had, he wouldn't have responded to it. He coughed, groaned, and rolled over in his sleep, attempting to breathe through a very congested nose.

Cho jerked awake with a sneeze and a groan. He was sick. He couldn't believe it. First Jane, then Lisbon… he didn't know who to blame. Was it Jane's fault for giving him the germs, or Lisbon's fault because she made him come to work? Even if it was Lisbon's fault, she had sort of already paid for it herself. When she got sick, it was only justice, her karma kicking her in the ass. But Cho? Cho had been an innocent bystander. This wasn't justice. This was cruelty, pure and simple. What had he done to deserve this? Somebody has a seriously messed up sense of humor, Cho thought, as he sneezed again and flopped back onto his bed with a weary sigh.

Van Pelt overslept. Then, upon waking up and realizing she had overslept, she reacted as expected. In a dignified and productive manner, she promptly freaked out. "Omigosh I'm late!" she exclaimed out loud. She coughed. Her throat was sore. Quickly, Van Pelt jumped out of bed, throwing on some clothes. She proceeded to the bathroom and had begun to brush her hair before she got a good look at herself in the mirror. Her nose and cheeks were bright red, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. "I look like crap," she muttered to herself. She coughed and continued to brush her hair.

Lisbon walked into the office and frowned. Her eyes traveled around the strangely empty room until they fell upon its single occupant, asleep in his usual spot on the brown sofa.

Her gaze softened as she walked over to Jane and saw the peaceful expression on his face. It was a rare thing for him to actually be asleep, and Lisbon felt bad about waking him.

She leaned over him, shaking his shoulder gently. "Jane," she said in a half-whisper.

His eyes opened immediately. Lisbon quickly straightened, embarrassed.

"Yes, Lisbon?" Jane said. "What is it?" There was no trace of sleepiness in his voice, no sign that he had just woken up.

Unless… no. He couldn't have been awake that whole time… could he? Walking in on a sleeping Jane? What were the odds of that? It was too perfect.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"I believe you've said something like that to me before. What did I do this time?" Jane asked innocently.

"You were awake all along, weren't you?" Lisbon said accusingly.

Jane blinked his blue eyes at her. "Was I?"

"Weren't you?"
Jane shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just curious as to why you assume that I was."

Lisbon scowled. If there was one thing she hated most, it was playing mind games with Patrick Jane. "Never mind that. Where is everybody?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jane.

"Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt. Where are they?"

"You're asking me as if I know?"

"I thought you might have seen or heard something."

"I was asleep."

"I thought you just said you weren't!"

"No, you said I wasn't," Jane countered. "I never admitted to anything."

Lisbon sighed. "I don't have time for this. If you don't know where everyone is, then get up and help me find out." She turned and stalked away.

Jane got up slowly, stretching. He stifled a yawn and winced slightly as his vertebrae cracked. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost ten thirty."

Jane thought for a moment. "Well, Rigsby or Cho being late wouldn't surprise me much. Both of them being late on the same day would be a coincidence, but not unimaginable."

"So you think they're just late?"

"Hold on, I wasn't finished. If it were just Rigsby and Cho, then yes, I'd think they were late. But Van Pelt is also absent. And she's never late. Which is what leads me to assume that the three of them are most likely sick and in bed."

"You think they're sick?" Lisbon asked incredulously.

"Well, all of you were exposed to my germs when you forced me to come in to work. You got sick; it makes sense that the others would get it eventually."

"Jane?" Lisbon said, glaring at him, her voice sugary-sweet.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to give you a five second head start."

"A five second head start before what?" Jane asked warily. He didn't like the murderous look in Lisbon's eyes.

"Before I kill you. One… two…"

Jane turned to make a run for it and immediately bumped into a disheveled and unhealthy-looking Van Pelt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Lisbon. She appeared to have been distracted by Van Pelt's entrance, enough so that Jane no longer felt the need to run for his life.

"Van Pelt," Lisbon said, surprised.

"Sorry I'b lade, Lisbid," Van Pelt sniffed.

"You look horrible! You shouldn't even be here!"

"I'b fide," Van Pelt responded. She coughed.

"You're sick. Go home and get some rest right now. That's an order. The last thing I need is for me or Jane to get sick again." Lisbon looked like she wasn't sure which prospect frightened her more.

Van Pelt nodded. "Alrighd. Sorry." She started to leave, then turned back. "Where are Rigsby and Cho?" she asked.

"Doing the smart thing and staying in bed."

Van Pelt nodded and walked slowly out of the office.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me today," Jane said brightly. "What do you want to do?"

Lisbon studied him for a moment, her anger returning. "Three… four…"

Jane was out the door and around the corner before she reached five.

Van Pelt left the office, but she didn't go home. Cho and Rigsby were both at home, sick. Cho could take care of himself, but Rigsby… She was sure that Rigsby was either in intense agony, or completely wasted on cold medicine. And she was willing to bet money on the latter. She stopped at a gas station to buy painkillers, cough syrup, and tea. Then she drove to Rigsby's house.

She let herself in when she got there. "Rigsby?" she called. "Rigsby? It's Van Pelt. I'm coming in. God, I hope you're dressed," she added under her breath. Slowly she walked toward the bedroom, wary of what she might see.

Rigsby lay on his bed, tangled in the sheets. He had been asleep, and was now blinking blearily. He sniffed, coughed, and looked around the room, before eyeing Van Pelt. He appeared disoriented.

"Van Pelt? 'S tha' you?" he slurred.

"Yes," Van Pelt sighed. She spotted a half empty bottle of cough syrup on his nightstand. Yup, just as she had thought, he was definitely wasted on cold medicine. "You look like crap," she said.

"You're not looking so hot yourself," Rigsby commented. After a moment, he seemed to process what he had said. "Not that you're not hot. 'Cause, I mean, you're really hot. You're always hot. And you look like you have a fever, which means you're even hotter. But you don't look very good. I mean – I mean, you don't look –"

Van Pelt cut Rigsby off. "I don't look healthy, I get it."

Rigsby coughed and nodded.

Van Pelt set down the things she had bought at the gas station, and hurried to Rigsby's kitchen. Rigsby heard running water, and then Van Pelt returned with a wet cloth, which she used to wipe Rigsby's face. The cloth was cool and felt good against his feverish skin.

"Van Pelt… I don't need your help. Go home and get some rest. Not that I don't want you here. I just mean – "

"Shh. Just be quiet, will you?"

Rigsby didn't argue. He was too tired, and too wasted.

Van Pelt pulled a chair next to Rigsby's bed and continued to nurse him, carefully stifling her own coughs. Rigsby fell asleep almost immediately, and Van Pelt soon followed.

The next morning, Rigsby woke up surprised, and pleasantly so. He began to run his fingers through Van Pelt's long red hair.

Van Pelt yawned and woke with a start. "Rigsby! What are you doing?"

Rigsby jerked his hand away. "Nothing!"

"Were you just – "

"No!"

"But I was – "

"No you weren't!"

"I'm leaving!"

Van Pelt stood and left the house in a rush, not once looking back, leaving a slightly forlorn Rigsby to wonder just what had happened. But Rigsby, being who he was, shrugged, decided he was either dreaming or hallucinating, and went back to sleep.

Lisbon was all too happy when, the next day, Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Cho all showed up for work on time, having all gotten over their colds. Her happiness was short lived, however, when she realized Jane was missing.

She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a number.

It was answered on the fourth ring.

"Jane," Lisbon said in her best scolding tone.

"Oh, Lisbon. Hi." He coughed.

"Oh no you don't!" Lisbon exclaimed.

"I don't what?" Jane asked. He coughed again.

"You are not sick. And you are going to get your butt in here right now!"

"Darn," said a voice from the doorway.

Lisbon jumped and dropped the phone. Jane leaned casually against the door frame, cell phone still held next to his ear.

"And here I thought you'd fall for it." Jane gave his characteristic grin as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Lisbon put her phone back on her desk and glared at Jane threateningly.

There wasn't a hint of mercy in her eyes.

"You are so dead."

Thus ends chapter 3. That's the last one, I swear, for real this time! Please let me know what you think, and sorry once again for taking so long. I will answer your reviews, even if it takes me awhile!