Title: Will You Marry Me?

Disclaimer: I wish.

Thank you to Jansku, Kate Mulder, Depresnjak, x-Pick'n'Mix-x, phoenixmagic1, Yen88, Hot Summer Days, PriscilaOrglene, LizfromItaly, information specialist, blueMnM415, xx Guess xx, Streak of the Sun, Frogster, TeresaJane, xXCoral-RoseXx, walk65, Brown Eyes Parker, 24Mentalistlover, ShunKickShunKers, LAurore, Jisbon4ever, Ashetreerose, waterbaby134, My Beautiful Ending, SpringBloom, JackSam, In The Name, InMyVeins, Ebony10 and watchyouwalk for the reviews from the last part.

Okay, I seriously had to update on Valentines' Day. It just seemed like a perfect holiday to put out this chapter, so whether you celebrate Valentines' Day or not…most of us just can't seem to get enough J/L fluff!

Without further ado, I give you all…proposals XVII and XVIII!

XVII.

"Jane!" Lisbon hisses, as she pushes the door open to her dark office. "I thought I locked this room last night, but no…here you are, on my couch and…" She pauses to flip on the light, and then turn back to him; only to drop her jaw in surprise. "…is there any particular reason why you aren't wearing a shirt?"

He grins, and glances up at her from the couch positioned in her office. "Meh, to answer your first question—no locked door can stop me and secondly, I thought this was "Show Your Chest" day." Lisbon narrows her eyes. "No? Was I supposed to do that next week? I always get these office events confused…"

"Get. Out."

"You know, you could be nicer—I don't show just anybody my chest."

"Jane, I never asked to see your chest in the first place!"

"Ah, but you do fantasize about it, then?"

(Lisbon might kill him for this, he decides, but how else does he get the woman to say yes!)

"Fantasize? No. Nightmares? Yes. Very vivid nightmares; nightmares that start off just like this."

"Oh, you dream about me…do you, Lisbon?"

"I dream that one day, you're going to show up in my office without a shirt on and then, you're going to do something completely idiotic." He beams, and she sighs with a straight face. "Who am I going to be apologizing to?"

"Nobody…well…" He pauses. "You might want to apologize to my chest."

"Your chest?" She sputters. "I don't think so."

"See, that's your problem…." He stands from her couch, and her eyes glance at his chest. "…and now, you're enjoying this…"

"I would rath…" Lisbon pauses again. "Jane, did you get a tan?"

"I'm so glad you noticed, Lisbon!" He tells her, grinning.

"…and…is your stomach asking me to…"

(He doesn't have to glance down at himself to know what she's talking about)

"Funny story about that." He gestures toward his stomach. "I finally decided to go get a tan, and well…I burn fairly easy, so I decided to use sunscreen…it never actually occurred to me that the message on my stomach would turn out like that." He glances back at her. "Considering it's already there, Lisbon…I'm going ahead and…"

"You're not proposing to me, especially without a shirt on."

"Why not?"

"Because your stomach says: "Will You Marry Me"?" Lisbon offers. "Who in their right mind would get a wedding proposal like that?" He opens his mouth and she shakes her head. "You obviously aren't in your right mind, so don't speak."

"How about you answer me back with your own tan?" He asks, and she grimaces. "I bet you have a pretty little number in your closet somewhere." When she doesn't respond, he continues on. "You and I can go to the beach, and you can write the message on yourself…"

"How about I just save the suspense, and give you your answer here?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Jane, I mean it. I'm not going to marry you, and I don't ever want to see you come into my office again without a shirt on…"

"Is this one of those no shoes, no shirt, no service deals?" He asks her, and she steps toward him. "I suppose so. Honestly though, Lisbon…if you want to service me, I can go toss my shirt back on and be back in five minutes flat."

"Leave."

"I don't think I will." He plops back down on her couch. "This is a free country, and I'm allowed to sit anywhere I want."

"Is that so?" Lisbon questions, and he nods.

"Then I elect that you go back to your couch, and leave me alone before I veto you out of this office."

"Ooo! Very nice, Lisbon! I really do enjoy this! Shall we play some more word games, then?" He teases, and she glares. "First word that comes to mind when I say…bondage?"

"Get."

"Sadomasochist?"

"Out."

"I don't even think you're trying, Lisbon!" He cries. "Give me one word, and then I'll leave—all right?" She doesn't nod, and he continues on. "Here it is, marry…"

"NOW!"

He blinks, she blinks.

"If you wanted to get married, why didn't you just say so?" He grins. "However, we'll have to wait to marry…I hear these things take time and…" He watches her pull her taser out from her pocket. "…you know; I hear that we can get a cheap wedding if we just scratch all the attendants', the reception, the decorations, the church and instead get married by some internet program…"

(He escapes her office, and tries to behave for the rest of the day—lest he be tased shirtless by Lisbon.)

XVIII.

If there was one thing Teresa Lisbon didn't enjoy, it was not being able to get the last word in. Sure, she had left her consultant on the bus after that one proposal, but still…Jane had always managed to ask for her hand in something before she had the chance to silence him.

Oddly enough though, Jane remained silent after his last failed tanning proposal—in the seven days since, Jane hadn't asked once for anything relating to marriage and while most people would have taken that as a blessing; she didn't.

A silent Jane 99.5% of the timeequaled a bad thing.

She knew he wasn't trying to get over his wounded pride, but instead, he was trying to find a new way to propose to her and she knew she'd never be able to stop him—so instead, she waited another week for his eighteenth proposal.

It never came.

Lisbon wondered if maybe, just maybe he had finally gotten the hint that she was never going to say yes. When on the third week; Jane stepped into her office, opened his mouth and held a silver platter toward her.

Instead of glaring at him, or crossing her arms—she decided to fight fire with fire.

"Lisbon, I baked this just for you and…"

She didn't let him finish.

"Jane, will you marry me?"

Jane opened his mouth, and shut it quickly—the platter falling from his hands in mute surprise while Lisbon smirked; she was evil, but Jane needed to learn.

"Hold up!" Jane cried. "That's not how this works! I'm supposed to ask you to marry me, and you're supposed to get annoyed!" Lisbon continued to smirk. "You're not supposed to ask me to marry you! Lisbon! You're playing dirty!"

"I didn't think this was a game."

"Lisbon-n-n-n-n-n-n-n!" Jane whined. "Can't I, just once, ask you the question without being kicked out, threatened or interrupted?"

"No. Get out."

Jane moved to pick up his silver platter, before he grinned at her.

"Just to let you know, I always get the woman."

He left, and Lisbon groaned.

What had she just done?