A/N: Okay, so this chapter is all over the place emotionally, but I hope when you read it, it isn't too disjointed. Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/alerts from all you awesome readers out there, including those who forgot or are too shy to sign in. I love you all!

Chapter 4

Where the hell is this coming from? Lisbon asked herself. She looked down to where her suddenly cold hand rested beneath his warm one, then back to his vulnerable, sea-storm eyes. He was playing her for some reason. Distracting her from whatever the real truth was. She'd seen him do it a million times with murder suspects. He'd put something innocuous in their hands while taking something important from them, like a gun. It was sleight of hand nonsense, but it almost always worked. Well, it's not gonna work on me. She removed her hand from his knee.

"Oh, I get it. Patrick Jane hates not being the center of attention."

"Well," he began, "that's part of it—"

She was pleased to see his little game was fraying around the edges a little, since she wasn't buying this jealousy thing.

"Explain yourself, then: literally throwing yourself at me in the doorway, attempting to manipulate my emotions and getting Clive to leave…"

His face tightened only a fraction, but Lisbon saw it. He might think he didn't have a tell, but sometimes, when he was taken by surprise, a very observant person might be able to detect it. And Lisbon was a CBI agent, after all.

"That's it, isn't it?" she said triumphantly. "This isn't about you and your depression and your claims of jealousy. It's Clive, just like I thought. He has something on you, and you want him gone."

He smiled his widest, most beautiful smile—another deflection tactic. "Now, Lisbon," he said, his voice brimming with condescension. "Your imagination is running wild again. Clive reminds me of things I'd rather forget. I was a fool to have introduced you two—don't know what I was thinking. He's not the same man I knew before—okay, scratch that. I'm not the same man I was before. I'm trying to protect you now."

"Protect me? From what? He works in the SA's office, for cryin' out loud. He's charming and funny and intelligent. And gorgeous—did I mention gorgeous? Oh, save me, Jane! Save me!" She said dramatically, the back of her hand resting against her brow like a distressed damsel.

"All right, all right. No need for sarcasm here. Listen to me, Lisbon, he wants something from you, and I don't think it's your Oolong," he said, nodding to his cooling cup. When his eyes met hers again, they'd gotten considerably cooler too.

"Well, that's insulting. There's no possible way a great guy like him could be interested in a mousy little thing like me, is that it? It must be something else besides my winning personality. He could just want me for my body, you ever think of that?"

He actually cringed at that statement, not even attempting to hide his tell that time.

"Of course he would want you. Who wouldn't? And if that's all he wants, he's not a very good catch, is he? You deserve someone who would appreciate all your finest assets, the least of which is your lovely body."

She stared at him. He'd noticed her body? She thought Jane was above things like that; she was pretty sure revenge had been his only bedmate these last five years. But his eyes had dropped to her breasts when he'd said the words, lovely body. Lisbon felt an unbidden flash of awareness, and knew her face had flushed red—her own most annoying tell.

Of course, Jane had noticed, and she was pleased to see the slight rise in color of his own cheeks. "What I'm trying so awkwardly to say here is I'm sorry I ever introduced you two. If you trust my judgment, even a little, you won't see Clive again."

"Ha. That's funny, Jane. You may have great judgment when it comes to choosing suspects, but your judgment everywhere else? Spotty at best."

He feigned a hurt expression, puppy eyes and all. "Now who's being insulting? I feel responsible for this mess. The least I can do is help you get out of it. Just make up some excuse if—"she gave him a dirty look—"when," he modified. "When he calls."

"Mess? There's no mess to clean up. You're still holding out on me. What does Clive have over you?"

"Why Lisbon, Clive Edmonds has nothing over me." He grinned at his own joke, and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, until you offer me some concrete evidence, or at the very least confess all, I will be going out with him. In the meantime, why don't you ask Amy out again? She called me this morning and said she had a great time with you last night."

"Did she?" he said noncommittally, avoiding her eyes. Amy had been very attractive, but he'd mainly been concerned with Lisbon and Clive the entire night, so he felt a little guilty that his heart hadn't been in it.

"Yes. She said you were charming, and funny and intelligent and—hot. Yeah, that was her exact word: hot. Hmm…sounds a lot like my description of Clive."

"Hot?" He sniffed in distaste. "How can a forty-year-old man be considered hot? How about distinguished? Or handsome? Hot is a word meant for teenyboppers and rock stars. How old is Amy anyway?"

"Thirty-five." She chuckled. "Are you blind? I thought Wonder Boy knew all and saw all. Not that your ego needs stroking, but women are always staring at you everywhere we go. It's annoying." Of course he knew this—had known from a very early age that he could get whatever he wanted from a woman just by flashing his killer smile. These days, though, he mostly ignored the come-ons. But it was interesting that Lisbon noticed…

"Boy Wonder, Lisbon. Boy Wonder. Okay, I'll go out with Amy again if we can have another double date."

"No way."

"Come on, Lisbon, think of your friend. She's obviously lonely and afraid to put herself out there. We did connect on some level, and I feel much more confident about dating again. Maybe we should both strike while the iron's hot, so to speak, before we both lose our nerve. But I still feel like I need backup. Having you there would make things much easier."

"You're so full of crap. You want to keep an eye on Clive and me, obviously."

"True. But we could all win in this."

"How would I win? I'd be losing the chance to be alone with a gorgeous guy, plus having you looking over my shoulder all night. Not conducive to a romantic evening."

Jane shook his head, looking down at a fingernail in feigned sorrow. "Poor Amy. Destined to live a lonely life, binging on ice cream and surrounding herself with itinerant cats."

"The answer is no, Jane."

He sighed. "Aww, well. I guess I've done all I can." He rose and headed for the door.
"Thank you for the tea, Lisbon. I suppose I'll see you at work tomorrow."

She rose to join him in the small foyer. "Yes, I suppose so."

He paused in the doorway and looked back at her, a serious expression clouding his face. She could tell he'd made up his mind about something.

"I wasn't lying earlier, when I said I was jealous of Clive," he told her, his voice low and rich. "I'm supposed to be the one who makes you laugh, who challenges your mind, who stirs up your emotions. I didn't like it when I saw that someone else was doing those things for you. I felt like I was…losing you." His words hung between them as they regarded each other in fascination, each wondering what those feelings he'd expressed had really meant.

"Good-bye, Teresa," he finished softly. He moved his hand up as if to touch her cheek, but he stopped himself at the last minute and turned to leave.

He left her speechless in the doorway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane only stopped walking when he heard her door click shut, which wasn't too long, fortunately, because he didn't know what she'd think when he kept walking past the parking lot. He pulled out his phone with a heavy sigh and called for a taxi.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday morning.

It took Lisbon exactly one phone call to discover that there was no one named Clive Edmonds working in the State's Attorney's Office; no one in the past, no one recently. She hung up the office phone, stunned and angry, then she grabbed her cell and texted Jane. She didn't trust herself to walk into the bullpen and call for him in person.

Get your lying ass in here.

She watched through the window of her office as he lay on his couch, likely asleep because he jumped a little when his phone buzzed an incoming text. He brought the phone to his sleepy eyes, and after reading what she'd written, he was instantly awake. He sat up and glanced at her office in trepidation, and she wondered if he would bolt for the elevator.

Don't even think about it, she texted him. He met her eyes from across the room, and almost laughed at how well she knew him.

He held up his hands in defeat and began his short walk of shame to her office. The rest of the team stopped and watched his every move, glancing from him to Lisbon's office suspiciously. Jane had obviously done something to piss off the boss, and from the way the blinds in her office were violently snapping shut, they knew he was in for it. Cho just shook his head knowingly.

Jane shut Lisbon's door behind him and helpfully closed its shade too. He took his seat across from her desk as she settled in for the interrogation.

"Who the hell is he," she demanded without preamble.

"Nice to see you too on this fine morning, Lisbon."

"Jane, I'm in no mood—" she practically snarled. Then she visibly calmed herself and continued tightly: "Now I know you knew him in your former profession, so I'm guessing he was also a little on the shady side."

Well, that was an understatement, thought Jane.

"Tell me, Lisbon, what's the statute of limitations for impersonating an officer of the court?"

She stared daggers at him. "He's not really even an attorney? Why the hell did you set me up with this, this—fraud?"

He sighed, and a shadow passed over his features. "He fit the bill as far as looks and charm, and I knew he could improvise the rest. The truth is, Lisbon, I didn't have anyone else to ask."

She regarded his pained expression, and her anger melted away somewhat. Then a thought occurred to her, and she was no longer just angry, she was furious.

"How much did you pay him?"
"Now, Lisbon—"

"How much? Tell me, how much do gigolos cost these days? I really want to know. Boy, you two must have had a big laugh when you saw how taken in by him I was. Teresa Lisbon, CBI agent, can't even tell when a man is yanking her chain. So desperate for a date that she would believe a beautiful man like him would even look at her twice without being paid for it. What kind of detective skills does she even have?"

"It wasn't like that," he said miserably. "I swear, Lisbon. It was only supposed to be one date, then our business was done. He took it upon himself to ask you out again. And, for the record, there was to be no sex involved, under any circumstances. Just dinner, then he'd disappear forever."

"How much?" Why she would be so curious about the amount he didn't know.

"Why is that important?" The look she gave him brooked no further argument.

"A thousand dollars, plus dinner and travel expenses from San Francisco."

To his dismay, she opened her desk drawer, took out her purse, and fished around for her checkbook. She slammed it down on her desk and began writing.

"I'll make it fifteen hundred," she snapped. "Any extra can be your finder's fee."

"Please, Lisbon. I feel humiliated enough as it is. Stop that, I'm begging you."

She paused mid-write to stare in amazement at his audacity.

"You feel humiliated? You? You self-centered asshole! Tell me, do you even remotely feel like the pimp you are? Because I certainly feel like I've been screwed over big time, with not even a hangover to show for it." She filled in the check while she raged to herself about how she'd love to humiliate him by wringing his neck. She tore off the check with a flourish and stuck it out to him from across her desk.

Naturally, he refused to take it.

"Take the goddamn check, Jane."

"No."

She was up and around her desk before he had the chance to get to his feet. She pushed him back down into his chair, and he made a noise that sounded something like, "Oomph!" while the chair rocked back dangerously.

"Take the goddamn check, Jane," she repeated angrily, going for the shirt pocket beneath his vest. He reached up defensive hands and then caught both her wrists, her sweet breath puffing in his face, her eyes wide and angry and beautiful.

"Settle down, Lisbon," he said calmly, in an attempt to tranquilize her with his hypnotic voice, his soothing gaze. Then, of course, he took things just a step too far. "I more than got my money's worth. You enjoyed yourself, looked happier than I've—"

She lunged at him with a feral growl, attempting to simply shove the check down the front of his shirt. They struggled a moment, Jane not wanting to hurt her, but also knowing that she might very well hurt him.

He gave an unmanly yelp when her hand popped a few of his buttons and he felt the strange dichotomy of scratchy paper and a hot, feminine hand on his bare chest. He was about to simply give in when their eyes met and they both froze, panting in exertion and mutual frustration. Impulsively, he jerked on her wrists and she stumbled forward, her lips landing firmly on his.

A sharp pang of desire shot through him, and suddenly, Jane was kissing Lisbon with everything that he had. A beat later, and she was fully participating as he drew them both awkwardly to their feet, pulling her roughly against his hardened body. She opened her mouth beneath his seeking tongue, and they moaned together, impatient hands shoving roughly into nests of soft brown and curly blonde, trying to get even closer.

Jane's heart pounded against hers, and he felt lightheaded from shock and lack of oxygen. She must have felt the same overwhelming sensation, for she at last turned her face to the side, her breathing labored and ragged.

"Stop, Jane," she whispered weakly, as his mouth continued planting hot, wet kisses from her cheek to her ear. "I can't breathe."

She shivered as his warm breath stirred her hair, and he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and nipping it with his teeth. She thought she might melt to the floor then and there if he didn't stop his sensual torture.

"Jane…stop…please."

He must have finally heard her, for he pulled away reluctantly, his panting matching hers in intensity. She held onto his shoulders, closing her eyes to try to steady her heartbeat and breathing.

"Lisbon, I'm sorry, I—" he began, right before her knee came up and slammed hard into his engorged groin.

He made a strangled noise in his throat and dropped to the floor in a heap, rolling to his side and grabbing his injury with both hands.

"Goddammit! Sonofabitch!" he managed through clenched teeth, plus a few more words Lisbon had never heard him use before. She stood watching his agony in shock, both because of the wild kisses they'd shared and her delayed over-reaction that had sent him to the floor.

She dropped down beside him. "Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry! God, I can't believe I did that! Can I get you anything? A pillow? Ice maybe?"

"No!" he hissed, eyes squeezed shut. "Don't touch me!" She pulled back the hand that was about to do just that. When the urgent knock on the door came, her eyes flew to it in panic.

"Uh, just a second," she called, then, straightening her t-shirt and smoothing down her hair, she opened the door a crack. Cho and Van Pelt stood there looking concerned, while Jane softly keened to himself behind her.

"We thought we heard someone fall," Van Pelt explained. She waited expectantly for Lisbon to step aside and let them in, but Lisbon hesitated a moment, very aware of how all of this might look. She caught Cho's meaningful glance and knew immediately he was in on this whole thing with Jane. She stepped aside to allow him to see what happened to traitors.

"Jane uh, fell out of his chair," she nodded at the prone consultant.

"And racked himself?" asked Cho in his usual monotone.

"Yeah," Lisbon replied.

"Oh my God, Jane. Are you okay?" Van Pelt knelt beside him.

"He doesn't want to be touched," said Lisbon. Van Pelt stood up again, looking upon Jane, obviously in pain, and feeling totally helpless.

Rigsby, returning from the breakroom with his morning doughnut, followed the voices to Lisbon's office.

"What's goin' on?" he asked curiously, pulling up short when he saw Jane writhing in agony on the boss's floor.

"The boss found out Jane paid a guy to go out with her so she kneed him in the nads,"explained Cho succinctly.

"Huh," replied Rigsby, taking another bite and looking upon Jane as he might a corpse at a crime scene.

"You did what?" exclaimed Van Pelt, outraged for her fellow woman. "You pig!" And she kicked his behind, hard. Pain shot through his lower body with renewed vigor.

"Jesus!" he cried out.

"Glad to hear you finally got religion," Van Pelt commented in satisfaction. Then, her work there done, she exited Lisbon's office and went back to her desk.

Cho looked to find his boss's hard eyes upon him. "I was an accessory after the fact," he told her, and chose that opportune moment to leave the scene.

Rigsby addressed Jane in some empathy. "Glad I'm not you, pal," he said, before nodding to Lisbon and refocusing on his chocolate pastry.

Alone with Jane again, Lisbon closed her door and went back to her chair, bringing up the spreadsheet she'd been working on before her ill-fated call to the State's Attorney's Office. Her lips still tingled from Jane's kisses, and she did feel sorry for what he must be going through at the moment. But Karma could be a bitch, after all.

"Lisbon?" came Jane's shaky voice from the floor. "I really am sorry," he said forlornly.

She sighed. "I know you are, Jane."

He lay on her floor for another hour.

A/N: I warned you there would be farcical elements, lol. I hope you had a good laugh. (No actual nads were hurt in the writing of this fanfic, although my husband served as technical consultant.)

Thanks for reading. Reviews? Anybody?