-The man can pick a door-lock in ten seconds flat, and he started life as a street-magician, therefore I'm afraid I don't think a pair of standard issue police cuffs would present a challenge.-

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Billy Joel – 'A Matter of Trust' – check out the lyrics. Seriously.

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A Matter of Trust

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Walking in to find him propped against his desk, and it might be him in the handcuffs, but it's his audience held captive.

"Have you seen how fast he can get out of these things?" Rigsby is genuinely impressed. Jane grins at her, twists dextrous fingers, and she's rather shocked at the speed with which the links fall off his wrists.

A time in both their minds, another man escaping from custody. Feigning unconsciousness, hands cuffed in front as he was stretchered away...

"These aren't toys." Tone is sharp.

"Entry level street magic." He placates her. "Useful to know what to look out for."

"Your turn, Boss." Cho says, cheerfully. Her mouth dries up. She can't. She knows Jane can see her panic, waits for him to jeer. Instead, he moves, rapid step and turn, and Cho finds himself cuffed to Rigsby.

"Remember 'The Defiant Ones'?" Grins at the outrage. "Now, show Lisbon you were paying attention."

Gives her a few moments to collect herself, while they bicker and argue. (It's Van Pelt who makes the shim from a paperclip and releases them, quick graceful fingers.) His gaze, knowing but not unkind, is a challenge in itself. She won't have him think she's as scared as she is.

It takes a huge amount of courage to snap the cuff on her own wrist. And then Jane puts out his hand, catches up the other cuff over his fingers.

"Just try one to start with. Take it slow."

Protecting her dignity, even if he chips at her authority in other ways. She's both slightly cross, and grateful to him. The thought of being trapped, controlled, makes her feel ill.

Jane watches her face, the way she chews her soft lip, little frown of concentration. She'd be genuinely frightened and angry at being constrained. He would never do that to her. Too stubborn to give in, every problem has a solution for Lisbon, and she'll keep at it until she works it out. The triumphant delight on her face when the cuff snaps open makes him laugh.

"I expect it's not so easy from the standard arrest position." Van Pelt says.

"But possible?" Rigsby's question is merely enquiry, but Jane looks at him.

"I don't know if I still could..." Face is suddenly serious, thoughtful, a moment of worry. The team are on it, eager, encouraging. Lisbon can see the tension behind his smile. And Jane won't back down from a challenge, either.

"Not out in the bull-pen." She says, suddenly. Too many people going past, potential witnesses. Meets his eyes. "My office."

Trust. Control. Vulnerability. Not things either of them are comfortable with.

So Jane stands in her office, grinning, spreads his arms.

"Standard procedure." He says. Eyes dare her. "If my lovely assistant, I'm sorry, my arresting officer - will check that I don't have any keys concealed..."

She pulls his wrists behind his back, palms out.

"I'm not putting my fingers in your mouth. You're probably rabid."

It's never been a fantasy of hers. These cuffs are tools of the trade, useful and nothing more. (one day, she might have to do this for real) A thought which stops the smile forming. She will not let that happen.

"Don't tell me this doesn't do something for your control issues." he says, keeping his voice light. He wouldn't let anyone else do this to him. Can't quite believe he's letting her.

He trusts her. Completely.

(...hands cuffed securely behind his back and completely at her mercy) ...That thought is so very, very wrong.

"Lisbon, my dear, you are thinking something thoroughly wicked. Care to share?"

No, she absolutely wouldn't. Laughs at him.

"There are women in this building that would kill to see this. I should take pictures."

He smirks back.

"You want to explain to the whole building that you inveigled me into your office and handcuffed me?"

"I could claim you broke in." That crooked little grin of hers. He realizes that it is a good thing he has his hands restrained, because the urge to run his fingers down the line of her jaw is overwhelming. He knows what her skin, her smile, feel like, has replayed it in his mind many times. Wants one day to experience it again, eyes and touch together.

"You could do whatever you wanted to me..." he muses, watches her face. Delicate wash of colour, but she leans right in...

"I might have known you'd be a pervert." She tweaks his nose. "So do I get that camera?"

He growls at her, amused. He's never been one for physical games; mental games are far more fun. Especially with such a lovely opponent.

They watch, as he backs up to the desk. Scary contortion of his body to hitch his joined hands under his backside, bringing his knees up. "...ouch...if I dislocate something, I get to explain to the ER how it happened..." One foot, the other, and this really isn't as easy as it was when he was twenty-one. "...Well, you see, my boss lady wanted to tie me up in her office..." Twists his fingers, pulling the paperclip that appears, wire between his lips, "... and she has a gun..." Once he has one hand free, he's soon out, and flexing sore shoulders. Looks up and grins.

"Were you hoping that I was going to get stuck? Shame on you all."

He's not as fast as he was, but it's still impressive, judging by their expressions.

"Only one thing for it." Lisbon grins back. "We're going to have to start carrying those plastic ties."

"That's cheating." Mentally, he makes a note to start carrying a disposable lighter. Never reveal all your tricks. "So, now you have an urge to tie me up?"

"Mostly, I have the urge to gag you." Waves her hands, though still smiling. "Show's over, guys, back to work. Or sleep, for those who don't have anything better to do."

They scatter, cheerfully amused. Jane hesitates a moment, places the cuffs back in her hand.

"You'll never need handcuffs to hold onto me, my dear." Breathed very softly, for her ears alone.

"Stop it."

"No."

"Jane..."

"I checked Bureau policy. And the terms of my contract." (She's suddenly not at all sure that she's going to like where this is going.) "I am a freelance consultant, on retainer to the California Bureau of Investigation, not an employee. Therefore, I'm not bound by the personnel protocols."

She follows that through to its logical conclusion, and her eyes widen. Jane's grin widens into something positively predatory; he's quite honest about certain things, and he's ruthless enough for them both.

She's not been...pursued, since college. And there is a world of difference between a goofy boy just out of High School, and this man. He'd once claimed that seducing her over a meal would be sophomoric. She suspects that she's about to get the full post-doctoral treatment.

"Go away." She wishes she sounded more convincing.

He gives her a heart-stopping grin and strolls nonchalantly back to his couch. She sits at her desk, holding the handcuffs, and aware that she's smiling like a fool.

He checked his contract?

She's losing this war, battle by battle, and she hates to think that she's not even putting up a fight.