A/N: Well, who knew there was another suitably cheesy yet wonderful love song out there, tailor-made for Jane and Lisbon post-season 6? I hope you like Beautiful Mess by Diamond Rio.

Going out of my mind these days
Like I'm walkin' round in a haze
I can't think straight

Jane spent the first little while after they got together doing nothing but concentrating on Lisbon, even at work. Especially at work. Only Lisbon, who knew him far too well, knew that there was anything unusual going on.

Yes, he made sure no one knew just how much Lisbon was distracting him. No one had noticed, for example, that he'd tripped over a chair the other day, or that he'd suspected the mother instead of the father in their most recent case. Still, when Lisbon cornered him and told him to smarten up, he had to agree. Even though (as he pointed out) no one had noticed anything, he swore that he'd do a better job.

In the other room, Abbott breathed a sigh of relief.

I can't concentrate
And I need a shave

"Are you ever going to shave that off?" asked Lisbon, pointing to his beard.

Jane grinned. "No."

Just like he suspected she would, Lisbon let her underlying annoyance bubble forth. "It's scratchy."

"I thought you'd like that. You seemed to last night..."

She glared at him, trying not to smile. "Not the point."

"I'm a delicate man," he protested, mainly to see what she'd say. "This was a symbol of moving on, evidence that I was ready to be with you!" He put his hand dramatically on his heart. "Now you want to take that away from me?"

She was not impressed. "I mean so much to you that you don't shave. Right. You're getting that homeless vibe again," she warned. "I think in your other life you were a hobo."

He hung his head in mock contriteness. "All right. Just for you, I promise to shave it off. I'll book an appointment in six months."

She was taken aback for several moments before she realized he was joking. "You just watch your back, or one morning you'll wake up and I'll have dyed your beard red."

"Now Lisbon, that's pretty sophomoric, wouldn't you say?"

I go to work and I look tired
The boss man says:
"Son, you're gonna get fired

Jane walked into work five minutes early, the result of Lisbon's nagging. He walked straight to his couch and collapsed down onto it. He was about eighty percent asleep when Abbott gathered the team in the bullpen at nine.

"Jane? Are we keeping you up?"

He kept one arm over his eyes but flopped the other in the general direction of his boss. "That's fine, Dennis. Just keep talking, you'll put me right to sleep."

He had to fight hard to keep from smiling. He knew exactly what everyone looked like: Wiley nervous yet impressed, Cho stoic, Fischer furious, Lisbon mortified, Abbott annoyed but resigned.

"Jane, you are here to consult. Therefore, you need to be awake."

"Naw, Lisbon'll fill me in on the way to the crime scene." He figured Lisbon was praying Abbott won't ask why he's so tired.

"Jane, what's gotten you so tired lately? You can't keep this up." There was a very faint undercurrent of menace in his voice, but Abbott was not the kind of man to blatantly threaten one of his team in front of the others.

Jane grinned to himself. Surely the fact that he and Lisbon had come to work together answered that. "Well, Dennis..." He heard Lisbon suck in her breath and took pity on her. "This is nothing. When I was working Red John I was up for 40 hours once."

Lisbon shot him a look that was half relief and half warning. He had to admire her skill. He winked back.

This ain't your style."
And from behind my coffee cup
I just smile

Abbott cocked his head at him quizzically. "Are you drinking coffee?"

Jane grinned. "There's a hundred bucks at stake here. Lisbon and I were fighting about our beverage choices last night and we made a deal. She's going to drink tea all day and I'm going to have coffee. There's a bet going with Cho and Wiley as to which of us'll be crankier at the end of the day."

Lisbon appeared at that moment on the other end of the room. Together, they lifted their cups defiantly and took a sip, then grimaced in unison.

Abbott shook his head. Jane smirked. He could tell Abbott was not looking forward to dealing with them for the rest of the day.

What a beautiful mess
What a beautiful mess I'm in

Lisbon was a messy person. Not excessively so; she liked her things in a certain order, but, especially at home, she got a little careless. Jane had never really been a fan of untidy, and this bugged him.

It was nothing major, just stuff like taking books from her bookshelf and leaving them on the coffeetable. Throwing the couch pillows on the floor. Not making the bed. Dumping her clothes beside the aforementioned bed.

Jane liked a clean house. He liked not seeing dust on the dresser. He liked not having to step over things on the floor. So, he would surreptitiously (and fruitlessly) clean up when she wasn't around, grumbling to himself.

But it was, after all, her mess, and gradually it grew on him a bit. And when Fischer dropped in one night and raised her eyebrows at the mess, he jumped to Lisbon's defense and surprised himself.

The untidyness was hers. And he no longer wanted to change it. He loved it.

Spendin' all my time with you
There's nothin' else I'd rather do
What a sweet addiction that I'm caught up in

Lisbon woke up one morning with a temperature. She tried to insist that she was perfectly fine, and it took all of Jane's abilities to keep her home. He was actually worried that he'd have to tie her to the bed, at one point.

Then he insisted on staying with her. Abbott let him, but only because he was smart enough to realize Jane wouldn't do any work if he was forced to come in.

Lisbon didn't understand why he stayed home. "You're doing this to torture me, right?" she asked, lolling limply on the pillows.

"Now, now, Teresa. I know you like the company. We could play a board game! Here. I got Monopoly." He ignored her groans and set up on the coverlet.

They played Monpoly for two hours and he cheated just enough to keep her alert. The whole point was to distract her from how bad she was feeling, and he was pleased at how well it was working.

"Jane! You just stole 200$!"

"No I didn't!"

"Give it back!"

"I'm the banker! It's a loan to myself!"

"Jane..."

He grinned. Whenever she said his name that way, it meant she couldn't think of anything else to say and that he'd won.

He would never say so, because it sounded pathetic to his own ears, but he'd actually stayed back just because he liked spending time with her, no matter how bad she was feeling.

He slipped her 300$ without her noticing, so she wouldn't go bankrupt. He wanted this game to continue until lunch at least.

'Cause I can't get enough
Can't stop the hunger for your love
What a beautiful, what a beautiful mess I'm in

Jane loved, almost above all else, finding new things to surprise Lisbon with. The key, he found, was to be unconventional and unpredictable.

He'd promised her flowers on their latest case, so the next day he produced a cactus and set it down in front of her with a flourish. "I figured gift-wrapping it wasn't a good idea."

Lisbon was trying not to look delighted. He knew she felt that she shouldn't show any appreciation, because she thought people around her would think she was nuts, loving a cactus. But he'd bet dollars to doughnuts that when they got home she would put it on a shelf where she'd see it every morning. And probably forget to water it, but he would take care of that.

She wouldn't thank him in words, he knew. But it was enough for him to see the sparkle in her eye. It made him start planning his next gift right away.

This morning put salt in my coffee
I put my shoes on the wrong feet

Lisbon had had a restless night. Now she was standing in the break room, her coffee finally ready. She reached out for the sugar and Jane appeared behind her. "Lisbon, you don't want to do that."

She almost dumped her coffee down the front of her shirt. "I am not in the mood to hear you tell me once again how bad coffee is for me!" she snarled.

Jane tried again, looking hurt. "Lisbon, that's not what I meant-"

"Jane, I don't want to hear it." She dumped a spoonful of sugar in her steaming cup and brought it defiantly to her lips.

Only to spit it out all over Jane's suit. She hacked and spit while Jane roared with laughter. "What was that?" she choked.

Jane swiped ineffectually at his jacket. "I tried to tell you," he said, still gasping with laughter. "That's a bowl of salt. Wiley was using salt to demonstrate some chemical thing for the case last night and no one threw it out." He looked wounded. "But still, I'm not the one who put the salt there. Why'd you spit up all over me?"

"Better your shirt than mine," she retorted haughtily. "Consider it payback for trying to make me dump it all over myself just now." Lisbon poured her coffee down the sink and stomped out with as much dignity as she can muster. Curse the man. He could have tried harder to tell her that was salt.

But when he showed up at her desk ten minutes later with a perfect cup of coffee in his hand, it sure was hard to stay mad at him...

I'm losin' my mind, I swear
It might be the death of me
But I don't care

Lisbon dug through the pile of clothes on the floor, wondering where that purple shirt was she especially wanted to wear that day. She was sure she'd laid it on the bed as Jane walked out to make breakfast. Now it had disappeared. Was she hallucinating?

"Jane, have you seen my shirt?" She walked into the kitchen in her bra and black pants.

Jane grinned at the sight. "Yup."

"So you know where it is?"

"Yup."

"I need it."

Jane nodded.

"Do I get it back?" she snapped.

"Eventually."

"Jane! I do not want to be late for work because of your stupid tricks!"

Jane sighed. "Fine. Your shirt's on your bed."

"But I just looked there-" She gave a sharp snort of disgust and disappeared upstairs again. Sure enough, the shirt was lying on the bed, right where she'd spent ten minutes looking for it. She shrugged into it, smiling. She really should be mad at him.

Should being the operative word there.

Is it your eyes?
Is it your smile?
All I know is that you're drivin' me wild

"Don't you ever get tired of being right?" she asked grumpily.

The man she was currently talking to merely smiled down at her irritatingly. It ground her gears that he didn't even have to say a word in order to get her blood up. All he had to do was smile at her.

"You don't have to gloat."

"I didn't say anything," he pointed out cheerfully. There was a faint laugh in his eye that only served to enrage her.

"You don't have to and you know it!"

What a beautiful mess
What a beautiful mess I'm in

Lisbon loved dressing up for Jane. There was something very satisfying, so very flattering in the surprised look on his face whenever he saw her in a particularly fetching dress. Yes, it was nice to dress up and have his eyes on her all the time.

But what she loved best was the look on his face when she first woke up and was looking at him bleary-eyed. She would almost swear he liked her better with her hair all messed up and sans makeup (not that she wore much anyway) than dressed up to the nines.

He would run his hand through her hair until it stood up in all directions like some sort of punk rocker. Then he'd kiss her, disregarding morning breath, and leap out of bed to make her coffee.

When he'd come back upstairs with it he'd tell her she looked a fright and why wasn't she out of bed yet? So she'd throw a pillow at him (after he'd set down the coffee) and he would grin and disappear downstairs again, leaving her slumped back on the pillows, a sleepy smile on her face.

She loved starting her mornings like this.

Spendin' all my time with you
There's nothin' else I'd rather do
What a sweet addiction that I'm caught up in

Abbott strode up to Cho. "Who's in there?" They were staring at the elevator, which had just broken down.

"Jane, Lisbon and Fischer."

Abbott whistled. "Can't say I wish I was in there with them."

Cho almost chuckled. "Me either."

The two men were standing there ready to greet the refugees when the technicians finally got things moving again an hour later. Fischer bolted out first. Like a bullet from a gun, and looking very harried. Jane and Lisbon followed, looking mellow and relaxed, laughing and chatting. Lisbon found Fischer in the break room.

"You look like you want to throw a few cups against the wall," she pointed out, amused. "Go ahead. The janitors are used to Jane."

Fischer looked up at her wonderingly. "How do you put up with him all the time?"

Lisbon was slightly surprised. "He really wasn't that bad in the elevator. Just Twenty Questions and Truth or Dare."

Fischer shot her a poisonous look. "This is my point. That doesn't bother you anymore." She stood up and walked out. Lisbon faintly heard her ask Abbott for time off, citing 'a traumatic experience'. She leaned back against the counter, thinking about what Fischer had said. No, she didn't 'put up' with Jane's behavior anymore. She loved it.

She smiled and set out in search of Jane. She would have to give him a stern talking-to. It really wouldn't do for him to go around giving his fellow agents mental breakdowns. He was only allowed to do that to her.

'Cause I can't get enough
Can't stop the hunger for your love
What a beautiful, what a beautiful mess I'm in

Lisbon sighed. Not that she wasn't excited about moving into their new place, but at the moment all she could think about was the myriad boxes surrounding her that required unpacking. At least Jane wasn't around. He'd been called out to a case far enough away that he would be spending the night and she'd insisted that he go. Not only could she not condone him skipping work whenever he felt like it, but she might actually be done more quickly without him. She'd been rather relieved when he'd actually obeyed, albeit with very bad grace.

She plunked herself down in the living room and ripped open the first box determinedly. She was onto the third box when she saw it: a little message scrawled in magic marker on the side. It read: 'Keep up the good work!'

She smiled, pleased. She'd have a little bit of Jane here with her after all. She was humming cheerfully when she found the next message. 'Help me, I'm trapped!' She chuckled to herself.

It became a game, discovering the little messages he'd left her. The afternoon flew by and the work didn't seem so boring anymore. In the kitchen she found a box that had the warning 'Handle roughly' and another that said 'I just wanna be free!'

In the bedroom she found a poem.

'Roses are red,
violets are blue,
you look like a monkey
and smell like one too.

Don't forget to take a shower when you're done!'

She glared at it and wondered just how he could be an eight hour's drive away and still manage to get under her skin. But since there was no one around she allowed a small smile to creep around the edges of her mouth.

She was almost finished - two boxes left - when she found the last message. 'I'll be back soon. I love you.' She sat there for a couple minutes, just looking at the message with a soft light in her eyes. She shook her head. He wasn't even gone 24 hours and she was already wanting him back. She was a fool, but at least she knew it.

A/N: Okay, I just about shrieked with laughter when I read the following news article and had to include it for others' merriment:

cbc ca/news/canada/nova-scotia/woman-scales-security-fence-at-halifax-airport-1.2732702

This is my answer to anyone who still wonders just how Jane got away with dodging airport security.