A/N: Thanks so much for your welcoming reviews of this story! This chapter has a little angst sprinkled in, because I didn't want to gloss over the emotions Jane would feel on a first date, but I hope the light conversation makes up for it. It's a little on the long side; hope you don't mind…

Chapter 2

Jane had to get out of there, had to breathe some fresh air. He didn't bother with the slow elevator, but took the steps down the two flights, walked quickly through the busy lobby of the CBI building, and pushed open the door into the late autumn day. He didn't even wave to the man in the security booth, but walked on through the gate and onto the sidewalk. It was a good thing they were used to his erratic comings and goings. A couple of blocks down the street, and he felt like he could think again.

He was going on a date—a double date-with Lisbon and some woman he didn't know from Eve. Plus, he had to come up with a guy for her. He'd been totally bluffing about knowing someone that even came close to being good enough for Teresa Lisbon. Shit. He was totally off his game lately, and he owed it all to the manipulation a week ago by Sophie Miller. Sophie. Still beautiful, still able to push his buttons like no other woman had before or since. She'd been his savior, his angel of mercy, had literally saved his life. He had no doubt that, had he not committed himself for that brief time, he would have ended it all. He'd come out of her care, damaged though relatively sane, and more than a little in love with his psychiatrist. Classic transference. He shook his head at himself. He'd known full well what was happening but had been too vulnerable and powerless to stop it.

So when he'd heard her voice on the phone, begging him to help her, he'd jumped without question. He might have even let her get away with murder, so in debt did he feel to her. And that kiss Lisbon had witnessed—it might have been much more than a peck on the cheek had he had the balls to move his lips just an inch or two to the left. Sophie had been just as affected by his kiss as he had; he was sure of it when he'd pulled away and looked into her dazed blue eyes.

But Jane knew in his heart it would be disastrous to pursue these feelings, despite the mutual attraction that was heavy between them. Sophie Miller was too tied up with his past, too wrapped up with his complicated emotions about his wife and Red John and his feelings of guilt. So he'd let her go a second time, and he'd been reeling ever since. He'd almost called her once or twice, just to hear her calm, reassuring voice, but he'd pulled himself together and let her go, just as he had five years before.

One thing he'd gotten from the experience, however, was confirmation that he could still have romantic inclinations toward a living woman. So when Lisbon had suggested he started dating again, at first he'd felt the faint stirrings of hope, but terror quickly quashed that emotion, and he was back to seeking avoidance of the issue altogether. It had gotten easier, not more difficult over the years to deny himself sexually, and now he totally understood the commitment of priests and monks, though, of course, his denial came not from any sort of religious vigor. It was punishment, just like Lisbon had said.

He could go back to Lisbon's office, confess to his weakness and fear—she would understand—but he couldn't bear to see the disappointment and pity in her eyes. What was one date? He asked himself. He knew how to turn on the charm, be casual, get through a good meal with not one, but two beautiful women. It wouldn't hurt him to be friendly for an evening, and he knew that maybe it would get Lisbon to back off on this strange new quest of hers.

"I can do this," he said aloud, stopping at the corner across the street from the park he'd frequented more than usual lately. He smiled self-consciously as a woman looked askance at his sudden outburst. "Use the crosswalk," he clarified. "I'm normally a horrible j-walker."

"Right," she said, amused, an appreciative glint in her eye.

See, he said, to himself this time. Women still find me charming. What was one date?

The light turned and he crossed the street, resigned to going on this blasted date for Lisbon's sake. But now he had to figure out what he was going to do about finding a date for the petite brunette who was getting way too good at figuring out his tricks…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Saturday Night

Jane must have tied and re-tied his tie five times before he was satisfied. He'd brushed off his most expensive suit from the back of his closet, awkwardly ironed his best dress shirt with the extended stay motel's complimentary iron, and slicked back his hair in a vain effort to tame it. Hell, he'd even shaved. Finally, Jane looked in the mirror on the closet door, only to be confronted by the vision of his former fake psychic persona. He turned away, clutching his chest as a wave of panic overtook him. His phone appeared as if by magic in his hand, and he very nearly called Lisbon to cancel this fiasco. He breathed deeply until the feeling passed, but he avoided looking in the mirror again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon had chosen a cozy Italian restaurant, known for its romantic, curtained booths. Jane pulled into the parking lot of the converted Victorian and got out of his Citroen, pocketing his keys with a feeling akin to doom. The foursome would be meeting there, the reservation under Lisbon's name. He stepped inside the fine establishment, his eyes adjusting to the dimness of candlelight, the soft tinkling of a live piano adding to the ambiance. Couples danced in the dark on a small dance floor near the piano, so closely that they looked like one entity as they swayed sensually to the music. Jane felt an instant of panic again, but then his eyes focused on a smiling Lisbon, sitting alone in a booth for four, and instantly he felt calmer.

The hostess led him to her and he couldn't help grinning at how beautiful she looked. Her cocktail dress was simple and black, held up by tiny spaghetti straps. She wore her hair in a bun, high on her head, thin curly wisps floating around her neck and at her temples. One look into her shining green eyes, and the last vestiges of his earlier panic attack melted away.

"Where's my date?" he asked, taking a seat across from her. He ordered a club soda from the waitress.

"She's running late," said Lisbon. She took a sip of her red wine and nodded at his attire. "Nice tie."

He smirked. "Thanks. You're looking exceptionally lovely this evening. I'm sure your date will be impressed."

"Speaking of which…"

"Don't worry; he'll be here soon. Saturday night traffic can be a bear."

"Uh-huh," she responded skeptically.

"Hey, your friend is late too, and I'm not judging."

She smiled. "Fair enough. So, tell me about…Clive, was it?"

"Yeah, Clive. Like I told you, he works in the prosecutor's office. Very smart, spiffy dresser. I know you're gonna like him."

"I don't know a Clive from the State's Attorney's office."
"He's new," Jane explained casually.

"How do you know him?"

"He used to be in private practice. I uh, retained his services once upon a time."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry.

"So, if you were to describe your friend Amy in one word, what would it be?" asked Jane, feigning curiosity.

Lisbon thought a moment, used to Jane's off-the-wall questions. At least he didn't ask what animal she reminded Lisbon of. "Driven," she said finally.

"Ah."

"What does that mean?"

"Just, ah. You admire her, don't you?"

"Yes. She's very accomplished. It takes a lot of dedication to run your own successful business."

"What kind of business did you say?"

She smirked. "She has a lingerie boutique. But don't let that taint your opinion."

"Lisbon, how could that possible taint my opinion? I'm sure she's quite respectable."

"See, that's what I'm talking about. Lingerie is not just about crotchless panties and peak-a-boo bras you know."

He chuckled. "What kind of lingerie stores do you frequent, Lisbon? Crotchless panties, indeed."

She blushed. "You know what I'm trying to say. Just because Amy owns a lingerie shop doesn't mean she's a loose woman or anything."

"I didn't think that at all, but now that you mentioned it…"

"Oh, shut up." The waitress dropped off Jane's soda and four menus, and inquired after their missing guests.

"They're running late, I'm afraid," responded Jane. "Give us a bit, will you?" He gave her the special smile he only reserved for those he planned to swindle later. She left with a slightly stunned expression; Jane's smiles could be deadly on the uninitiated.

"So how is it you know Amy?" he asked her, barely missing a beat.

Lisbon hid her expression behind a sip of wine. Jane laughed. "You met her in her boutique, didn't you? That's nothing to be embarrassed about, Lisbon. Lingerie is not just about crotchless panties and peak-a-boo bras, you know."

She gave him a dirty look and picked up her menu.

"By the way," Jane ventured, perusing the extensive list of pasta dishes. "I've seen enough movies and sitcoms to guess how this double date might go."

"Oh? Do tell," she encouraged, bemused.

"Well, it could be that neither of our dates will like us, but our dates will like each other."

She raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't stop his little analysis. Jane on a roll didn't need much encouragement.

"Or…one of us will like our date a little too much, but the other will be insanely jealous of the match, and try to sabotage it."

"Well, I certainly don't see that happening."

He shrugged. "You never know, Lisbon. And then again, there is, of course, option three."

"Option three?"

"Yes. We don't like either of our dates and realize that we were meant to be together ourselves, that this whole double blind date thing was just a ruse to hide our true feelings for each other."

She looked startled by this possibility, and when her eyes met his over their menus, his were sparkling with mischief. He was teasing her, and once again, she'd fallen for it.

"Or," she countered. "You're forgetting option number four."

"Which is-?"
"We both like our dates, have a great time, fall madly in love, and have a double wedding a year later."

He gave her his sunniest smile. "Aww…so it's romance novels for you, eh? Or is it chick flicks?"

She grinned in return. "Maybe a little of both."

Just then, a man, escorted by the hostess, arrived at their table. Lisbon looked up at him with a gratifying drop of her jaw. He was stunningly gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome. She awkwardly got to her feet as Jane made the introductions, and Jane tried to tamp down the strange disappointment he'd felt when their lively conversation had been interrupted. Clive gave his drink order—vodka tonic—and took his place beside Lisbon at the booth.

"Sorry for my tardiness," Clive began, with a hint of an intriguing Irish lilt, "It couldn't be helped, I'm afraid. So, Patrick tells me you are a CBI agent, Teresa. Not only that, but a team leader? Impressive."

Lisbon blushed a little, already taken in by the man's pleasant charm. "Thank you. Yeah. It can be challenging at times. But I work with good people."

He turned chocolate brown eyes toward Jane. "Must be a really big challenge working with Patrick here. He's got that dog with a bone mentality, eh?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, that pretty well describes Jane. Have you known each other long?"

"Yes, we go way back. Back to his old fake psychic days."

"Oh really?" Lisbon's interest was piqued and she looked from Jane to her date in anticipation. "Jane said you were his attorney once."

Clive laughed softly. "Yes, you could say that."

Jane cleared his throat, not liking the path the conversation was taking.

"Tell her about your work in the SA's office," Jane said, steering things toward a much safer topic. They passed the next five minutes small talking about the state of the California legal system these days, and Lisbon seemed content with Clive's company. Jane, however, felt his mood growing darker and darker with each flirty chuckle his companions directed at one another. That is, until his own date arrived.

Amy was indeed tall and willowy—Jane's exact height without the high heels, and a good two inches taller with them on. Both men rose politely and Lisbon made introductions all around. Jane took Amy's damp hand to help her slide into the booth; she was nervous too, and Jane felt a rush of empathy. Lisbon had said this was her first date since her fiancé died. Her bright blue eyes met his with unspoken gratitude and mutual understanding. He gave her his most genuine smile.

To say Amy was beautiful was an understatement. She had a very refined quality, with classic, Grace Kelly features, honey blonde hair framing her alabaster complexion in a short style that few women could pull off. She wore a dress as dark blue as sapphires, an old-fashioned pearl choker setting off her long, pale neck. She could very easily be a fashion model. Jane might be unready for a relationship, but he wasn't dead—he appreciated true beauty when he saw it. And then she opened her mouth, and her soft, deep-southern drawl nearly did both men in.

"You're originally from Mississippi, aren't you?" Jane asked, an expert on accents, of course.

"Yes, very good. Teresa said you were very observant."

"Part of the job," he shrugged, in an unusual display of modesty. Lisbon snorted into her hand, covering it with a soft cough.

"Don't let him fool you," commented Lisbon. "Jane helps solve more cases for Serious Crimes than any other unit."

"Thanks to my fearless team leader," Jane said, raising his glass in salute before drinking. Lisbon and Jane smiled at each other, humor and mutual admiration warring for dominance in their eyes. The two others at the table couldn't help but notice the easy chemistry between them.

"Teresa tells me you have your own business, and that she's a frequent customer."

"Jane—" Lisbon said in low warning.

Amy laughed. "She's very fond of red lace," she said mischievously. Jane was sure Lisbon kicked her friend a little under the table. He grinned widely, liking Amy already, and not just for her good looks.

"What?" asked Clive. "What kind of business?"

"Lingerie," Amy said. "I have a boutique just down the street from the Capitol building."

Clive chuckled. "Bet you have a lot of congressmen doing repeat business there—one for the wife, one for the mistress."

Everyone laughed. "Mostly for the mistress," Amy disclosed. Jane caught Clive looking at Amy with masculine appreciation.

The conversation flowed from there, as they snacked on bruschetta and waited for their dinners. So far, things were going much like Lisbon had predicted—each of them seemed to like their blind dates.

As they awaited dessert, Clive asked Lisbon to dance. Jane had to grin at their dramatic differences in height. He watched them a moment, Clive laughing at something clever Lisbon must have said.

"We don't have to dance if you don't want to," Amy said softly near his right ear. "Teresa told me that this date might be a little uncomfortable for you."

"No," Jane denied, meaning it now. "Not at all. It would be a shame to waste that beautiful dress by hiding it all night behind a table." He took a small breath, nervous in spite of his increased confidence with the overall situation. "Would you care to?"

She smiled, obviously trying to overcome her own anxiety. "Sure. Why not?"

He helped her to the floor, and she stood over him, making him laugh lightly when he had to look up into her face.

She laughed too, almost playfully. "Here," she offered, toeing off her heals and setting them on the booth's bench. "I guess I don't need to use my height to put you in your place now, do I?"

"No," he grinned, and pulled her gently by the hand to join the other couples who were slow dancing on the smooth wooden floor. "I always know my place where women are concerned."

"And where is that," she asked, sliding into his arms, eyes now even with his.

"Why, directly at their feet, of course."

She looked at him archly, but Jane knew it was an act; he sensed her attraction to him. "Teresa warned me you were too charming for your own good."

"Did she now?" he said in amusement.

He glanced over at his boss, who, at that moment, was turned at just the right angle to see him despite her partner's towering height. For a moment, he enjoyed the way the candlelight lit her face, shimmering off her shiny hair and making her eyes fairly glisten. She smiled at him in encouragement, and for a moment, Jane's heart seemed to skip a beat. She must have misread the stricken look in his eyes, for her brow furrowed and she mouthed: You okay?

He nodded once at Lisbon and then forced himself to focus on his date, plastering on a benign grin.

What the hell was that? Jane wondered, his mind racing to keep up with his heart. He fell silent a moment, his feet moving automatically as the pianist began singing a soulful version of Billy Joel's "She's Got a Way About Her."

Xxxxxxxxx

The men escorted their dates to their cars, all having agreed to an early evening, none of them wanting to ruin the cocoon of good feelings enveloping them. Jane saw Amy to her white Mercedes convertible, taking one hand in both of his.

"Well," he said, "we did it."

She smiled a bit tremulously. "Yeah. And I gotta say, it wasn't as bad as I feared."

"Gee, thanks," Jane grinned, not offended in the least.

She blushed. "You know what I mean. It was nice meeting you, Patrick. Thank you for the lovely evening."

He squeezed her hand and opened her car door for her, the awkwardness of kissing not even an issue between them. They both knew instinctively neither was even close to being ready for that.

"It was nice meeting you too, Amy. Drive carefully now. Good night."

He watched her drive away, then turned to walk back across the lot to his own car. He paused abruptly when he saw that Lisbon and Clive were still standing and chatting near her car. All at once, her date picked up both her small hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing her knuckles gallantly. Jane couldn't tell for sure, but he knew Lisbon's expressions well enough to predict she was flushing prettily in the darkness. A bereft feeling slammed into him, and he wanted to turn away from the unusual scene of Lisbon enjoying another man's company, another man making her smile and laugh, but he was frozen in place. Against his will he watched how achingly long Clive's mouth lingered on Lisbon's hands, and how obviously she was captivated by the romantic gesture.

Endless moments later, Clive helped her into her car, and she drove away, waving to Jane as she passed him, standing where he stood numbly in the middle of the parking lot. He brought up a hand at the last minute, and his eyes didn't leave her vehicle until well after it had driven out of sight. He walked shakily back to the Citroen, where Clive was patiently waiting for him.

"I think that went well," said the man cheerfully, his voice suddenly sounding less like Dublin and more like Dubuque.

Jane unlocked the passenger side of his car and reached into the glove compartment, pulling out an envelope containing several crisp hundred-dollar bills. He nearly shoved it into Clive's open palm.

"That ends our business, I believe."

Clive pocketed his payment and looked slyly at Jane. "What's with the attitude, man? I believe I just did you a favor. You're lucky I've been living in San Francisco the last six months and it was so easy to track me down."

"I have access to CBI databases, remember? I could have found you in Hell if I'd needed to. And it wasn't a favor, it was a business transaction. This won't be like it used to be—no extended con, no follow-up required. It was a one-time deal; you're not to contact her again. Or me, for that matter."

Clive regarded him curiously, not offended in the least by Jane's standoffishness, though it had been five years since they'd last worked together. He knew, of course, of Jane's tragic past, but what honest emotion Clive had left was reserved for his deep, abiding love for cash.

"Just like old times, eh Patrick? I'd show up at some mark's house with you, claiming to be their dearly departed's secret attorney. We had quite a racquet going there, workin' Malibu's richest old bitties. Things just weren't the same after you left town."

Jane looked upon his former, occasional partner with contempt. He knew it was hypocritical of him, but Clive represented everything about his old self he despised, everything that had led to the murders of his wife and child. Jane wouldn't have called him in a million years if he'd not felt so desperate to find someone suitable for a first date with Lisbon, for, other than his team, Jane hadn't bothered making friends with anyone since he'd joined the CBI.

Clive was one of the best conmen he'd ever worked with, and Jane knew he'd stay in character and could adapt seamlessly to any unforeseen circumstances. He was a professional, just like Jane had been once, and he'd quickly absorbed all the background information he'd fed him about Lisbon to present her with what she'd see as a nearly perfect date.

"You look like you've gone on well enough without me," Jane commented. "But you'll understand why it's impossible for you to ever see Teresa again."

"Oh?"

"She's a cop, remember? It would only take one phone call to find out there's no Clive Edmonds working in the State's Attorney's office. Besides, she's not exactly wealthy, so it would be a total waste of your time."

Clive regarded Jane a moment in mild amusement. "So, that's the way of it, is it?"

"What?" asked Jane, tensing up at the man's sly tone.

"You want the boss lady for yourself. I get it, I get it. She's quite a little firecracker, not to mention a fine piece of a—"

"Don't talk about her that way," Jane growled, sorely tempted to punch the guy. He realized at once that his anger would only confirm Clive's suspicions, so he backed off, trying to bring things back on a more businesslike keel.

Clive laughed. "Settle down, Patrick. But you can't fault a guy for being a little nostalgic here. We used to work well together, and if tonight was any indication, we could pick up right where we left off. I've never taken in more cash than I did when we'd partnered up."

"I don't do that anymore," Jane replied tightly. He held out a dismissive hand for him to shake, officially ending the transaction.

"Thanks for doing this, Clive. But I believe we're done here."

The taller man shook Jane's hand. "Very well, Patrick. See you around sometime."

"No you won't," Jane said, and got into his car without looking back.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was stopped at a red light some fifteen minutes later when his cell phone rang. He fished it from his pocket and was pleased to hear Lisbon's voice.

"Did you get home okay?" he asked her.

"Yes, just. I was wondering how you were doing. You and Amy seemed to hit it off—sometimes at my expense, no less."

Jane grinned. "Red lace, eh?"

"I guess you'll never know, will you?" Her slightly flirtatious tone caught him off guard.

"Amy was very nice, Lisbon," he managed to say, changing that dangerous subject, "but I don't think I'm ready to make it a second date. I hope she's not offended; it was certainly nothing personal."

"You sure? I mean, you both seemed to relax as the night wore on. I think it was good for you."

"Maybe."

"I'm proud of you Jane, for taking this step. I bet it will be easier next time."

Jane wondered silently if there would ever be a next time.

"Thanks, Lisbon," he said simply.

"You're welcome," she said, her warmth reaching out to him across the air waves. "Oh, and thank you for setting me up with Clive. He's a great guy; I underestimated you. As a matter of fact, we're meeting for brunch tomorrow."

"What?" Jane's heart seemed to stop in his chest.

"Yeah. At Tower Café."

At that moment, he had no idea what to say.

"Jane?"

"Uh, yeah. Well, that's nice, Lisbon. You must have enjoyed your date."

"I did. Well, see you Monday. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

"You too, Lisbon."

They hung up and Jane felt his anger so acutely he literally saw red.

"That son-of-a-bitch!"

A/N: I hope this wasn't too predictable or angsty. It didn't turn out as humorous as I would have liked, but I promise to pick up the fluff in the next go-round. Please review and let me know what you think!