Lisbon walked into the bullpen of the FBI early that morning.

She still couldn't get used to the white, pristine walls or the clean "don't touch anything" feel the place gave her. Everything was so new and sleek and advance. It was extremely weird working in this new environment.

She wondered if she'd ever get used to it; after all, it would never be the CBI.

With a huff, she sat in her seat, glancing at the newly placed leather couch beside her desk.

She smiled. Classic Jane, she thought, sighing and frowning. Some things never change, and Jane was one of them, that was for sure.

She still hadn't fully forgiven him for leaving her alone on the beach, keeping her out of all his plans, and the two year separation. She wasn't as angry, of course.

But that didn't stop it from hurting less. Especially since they had barely talked since they began working with the FBI, officially. It got busy.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to her bag and her coffee, looking for a coaster to place the hot drink on. God forbid she dirty the pristine desk.

Then that's when she saw it, out of the corner of her eye. A bright flash of colour.

There was a bouquet of flowers on her desk.

"Well that's new," she said out loud. She glanced around, wondering if anyone saw who put them there.

Nobody was around.

She looked around once again, making sure the coast was clear, and picked up the bouquet. The flowers were beautiful—nothing she could recognize, maybe some kind of lilac? It was mostly made up of tall, bush-like purple flowers, with single red and purple flowers peeking out. Tiny lavender flowers were in the ensemble, as well, and even smaller orange ones, barely noticeable but for the bright colour.

Teresa smiled, smelling the flowers.

They were lovely! Now, if only she knew who gave them to her. She moved the arrangement around, searching for a little card—but found nothing. No note, no name, nothing.

She sat for a moment, still smiling at the bouquet.

Better take these out before someone notices, she said rapidly getting up with the flowers and crashing into—

"Good morning Lisbon. You look cheery today! Oh, what's this?"

Awe, sheep dip.

"Oh, they're nothing, really just—"

"That is a lovely bouquet!" Jane cut her off, grabbing the flowers from her hands.

"Hey, give it back—"

"Mmm, they smell lovely."

"I'm sure they do—"

"Tell you what, I'll go and find something to put these in. You sit tight, Lisbon," Jane said, rushing off with her flowers.

Lisbon sat back down, watching as Jane came back with the flowers in a travel mug filled with water.

He placed them on her desk, smiling. "This sure does brighten this place up, makes it feel more comfortable. Just what they needed. Much more homey, don't you think?"

She half glared, half smiled at him, turning on her chair as he went to lay on his couch. Maybe he saw who put them there?

"Any idea who gave them to you?" he asked before she could, eyes closed, laying on his couch.

"No note or name. I was just about to ask you if you'd seen anyone put them there."

He frowned, appearing to be deep in thought.

"I didn't see anything. Hmmm."

Frowning, Lisbon turned back to her computer. It was quite, for a little bit.

"Somebody has a secret admirer…" Jane said in a sing song voice.

It was going to be a long day.

The next morning, early as usual, Lisbon walked into work, just like she had the day before.

The flowers had gone home with her, placed in a nice vase on her coffee table. The plastic travel mug was thrown in her sink, amongst the pile of dishes she kept telling herself she'd get around to washing. Soon.

She made her way through the desks, until she got to her own—

And stopped short, because today, too, there was another bouquet on her desk.

"Again?" she said out loud.

"Morning Lisbon!" Jane's voice said, cheerfully, as he walked into the bull pen with another water-filled travel mug.

"Morning," she said, trying to hide her smile. This bouquet was bright and cheery—and she recognized the flowers. White iris and ivy were bundled together, weaving around yellow roses.

"Your secret admirer strikes again," Jane said, placing the cup on her desk.

"Shut it," she replied, slight laughter in her voice.

Jane just smiled, watching as she tossed her bag on her desk and stared at the flowers, her hands in her pockets.

"Is there a note this time?"

She picked them up and looked through the bouquet, then huffed.

"I'll take that as a no."

"You know, if this secret admirer admires me so much, the least he could do is leave me a note."

"Ah but that would defeat the purpose of a secret admirer, dear Lisbon. Secret, remember?"

She glared at him, swatting him with the flowers. "Knock it off."

Smiling to himself, he watched as she unwrapped the flowers and set them in the cup.

He wondered when she'd catch on.

"Lisbon, have you run through the security footage—another one?" Kim Fischer said, noticing the bright bouquet on Lisbon's desk.

"Yup."

"Did mister secret admirer give a name this time?"

"Nope."

Fischer looked at Lisbon, questioningly. She glanced over at Jane, on his couch, reading a book.

"Jane. What are you doing?"

"Reading."

"I can see that. What are you reading?"

"A book."

Kim huffed, glancing at Lisbon, who shrugged.

"Is it helping with the case?"

"Probably not," Lisbon murmured under her breath.

"Then we should fix that. We got a call from the witness. Apparently there's something she… neglected to tell us."

"Knew it," Jane murmured.

Lisbon smirked, hiding her reaction from Fischer, who rolled her eyes.

"Jane, put the book down. You and Cho are going to go talk to her. Now."

And with that, Kim left.

Jane got up, very loudly stretching and sighing. He placed the book on Lisbon's desk. "Very interesting read…you might like it, Lisbon."

Staring at the book questioningly, she watched him leave.

The next day, Lisbon sat at her desk, staring at yet another bouquet. This one was a big bunch of tulips, in all sorts of colours—but mostly red and yellow.

Right when she had sat down she watched the entrance to the bullpen, waiting for Jane to enter with the traveling mug filled with water—and he came in right on cue.

"Oh. This one is my favourite, I think. Tulips. Very interesting flower, you know."

"Are you kidding me? They're so generic, it's unreal."

Jane looked offended. "What do you mean generic?"

She shrugged, watching him carefully. "I donno, you just see them everywhere in the spring time..."

"Lisbon, Lisbon, Lisbon," he said, smiling. "Tulips have a very nice meaning behind them," he said, tapping the book he had left on her desk—it was still there.

He lay down on the couch.

The case had been wrapped up yesterday, and today was quiet. It gave Lisbon some time to think over her lunch. She sat at her desk, eating her leftovers, and looking at the bouquet. She compared it to the other three. The bouquets were all very different. She had expected them to be the same, but now that she thought about it, each one had different flowers, handpicked and carefully arranged.

She had her suspicions, of course. Perhaps she should test them out.

"Hey, Jane," she said, staring at his prone form on the couch. He grunted.

"I've been thinking…" an eye peeked open, hand moved away from his face. She had gotten his interest.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, about the flowers. There's no pattern. Every day, it's been some different bunch of flowers. Why do you think that is?"

"Ahh, very good Lisbon," he said, getting up and sitting across from her on the chair the guests used, backwards. He hugged the back of it, chin resting on his arms.

"Flowers. Why do people use flowers to show affection? A gift on a date, an apology bouquet—I gave a lot of those out back when…" he paused for a moment, pain briefly on his face.

Noticing, Lisbon interjected. "That doesn't surprise me at all," she murmured. "I guess they use them because they're pretty? Thoughtful?"

"Hmm. There's much more to that, actually. A lot of people believe that flowers speak a language."

Lisbon choked, imagining a cartoon rose suddenly saying hello.

"A symbolic language."

"So, what, each flower symbolizes something like love or, I don't know, pretty eyes?"

"Exactly that. There're even some flowers that symbolize rejection."

"Ouch."

Smiling, Patrick tapped the book. "It's all in here, Lisbon. Very interesting read, indeed. Bring it home, at least open the book."

Cho stopped in front of the desk, smacking some files down.

"We have a new case. We're expected in the briefing room in 10."

He stopped for a minute, glancing and the tulips.

"Nice flowers. Yesterday's were better."

"Oh I agree," Lisbon said, glancing to Jane at her side.

"They're not that bad!" Jane said, as Cho walked away, hiding a slight smile from his coworkers.

That night, Lisbon sat curled up on her sofa, starring at the bouquets. Her sink was filled with the empty travel mugs—she still hadn't done her dishes, and her place smelt like someone walked right in and sprayed Febreeze everywhere.

Before she left work, she had stared at the book Jane had given to her. The Language of Flowers. Burning with curiosity, she had huffed and stuck it in her bag, grabbing the tulips and heading out.

Now she stared at all three bouquets, trying to find their pictures in the book.

She started with the first bouquet, which turned out to be an assortment of obscure flowers she had never heard of. The lilac-esque flowers were actually hyacinths, with geraniums, the smaller red and purple flowers, dotted in between by themselves. The smaller flowers were heathers, and the orange ones bittersweets.

She read the meaning of each flower: Sorry, stupid, forgive me, I'm telling the truth.

"Stupid? Well that's not very nice…"

She stared at the sorry bouquet, thrown off by the stupid.

Unless… the stupid was meant for the flower giver.

In which case, Tuesday's bouquet would mean I'm sorry, I'm stupid, forgive me, I'm telling the truth.

Lisbon thought of her theory. She was really proud of herself, to be honest, though she thought she may be wishing a little too much. Jane had been stupid, leaving her behind three times, not telling her anything.

She deserved a huge apology, and he knew it, and she told him on the plane… Perhaps this was it, her huge apology. I'm sorry, I was stupid, please forgive me, I'm telling the truth.

Especially since every time she had gotten a bouquet, he was the only other person around…

Shaking her head, she snapped out of her romanticized thoughts, focusing on deciphering the bouquets.

Wednesday's bouquet was very simple. Iris apparently meant your friendship means so much to me. The ivy was a similar message, according to the book; friendship and affection.

Affection?

She frowned. If it was Jane, then that ivy threw her off. Every time he had told her something remotely close to 'affection', he ended up pretending it never happened… or abandoning her on a beach and getting blown up, much to Lisbon's dismay.

Okay, Teresa, focus, she thought, absent mindedly fiddling with her cross.

The one yellow rose was last, and according to her new friend, it meant joy and friendship.

So this was a friendship bouquet?

She smiled, deeply touched. If it was Jane sending these flowers—and her suspicion was steadily growing, though she tried to stifle it—then this bouquet meant a lot to her.

"He values me?" she said to herself, laughing a bit.

"Huh." Shrugging and sipping her wine, she dug deeper into the book to figure out today's bouquet.

The tulips. Lisbon had never been too fond of tulips; they were the most common garden flower she had ever seen. They were nice, of course, but after two days of beautiful, exotic flowers she rarely saw, this was a little bit down setting.

"Let's see," she said to herself, reading about the tulips.

The passage was long, and categorized into every colour. She began to read. A few minutes later, she put the book down, and stared.

Because the tulips meant perfection.

The general ones were a declaration of love.

"Oh my god," she whispered, her eyes stinging.

Good luck, Teresa. Love you.

Her heart nearly burst, it was beating so fast. She took a few minutes to walk around her home, collecting herself.

It can't be him no way it can't be

But the facts were all right there. Jane was there every day to get water for the flowers. He was the one who pointed out the symbolism, he gave her the book, and he had been offended when she commented on the tulip's being common.

"It's all so obvious…"

The yellow and red tulips had different meanings. The yellow one meant there is sunshine in your smile. And the red one?

The red one meant believe me.

He loves me and wants me to believe him?

She decided that she needed to go to bed.

Friday, Lisbon walked into the building, stopping before she entered the bullpen. She braced herself, slowly peeking around the corner.

And there, unmistakably on her desk, was the largest of the three—well four, now— bouquets.

"What the hell," she said quietly, nearly racing to her desk. She was almost in tears. It was beautiful.

The flowers were all big, bright, and smelt divine. Leaving her bag on her chair, she raced to the kitchen, smacking right into Jane—of course.

"Jane!" Teresa was shocked, and stared at him, very intently. She had no idea how to confront him, he'd figure her out right away.

Put on a front, Lisbon, a good one.

"Good Morning, Lisbon. You saw today's flowers? Our secret admirer has outdone himself today."

"Our secret admirer? Nu-uh. Mine," she said, smiling. She grabbed the travel mug in his hand, already filled with water.

"For my flowers? Awe, Jane, you're too kind," she said, smiling and going over to her desk.

He followed her, slightly shocked, blue teacup in his hand as he made way to his couch.

"So I see you read the book?" he asked, sipping the tea.

"No," she said.

"A little too high pitched there, Lisbon, we've been over this, you're a terrible liar."

"Alright, whatever you say there, Sherlock."

"Did you do all the bouquets?"

"Why are you so interested?"

He shrugged, making a face. "Well I—"

"Patrick Jane, do I sense jealousy?" she said, hiding her smile. She was on a roll today.

Patrick almost choked on his tea. "Jealous? Of course not! You're really…well…you're—"

"Morning agents," Fischer said, stopping at Lisbon's newest flower arrangement.

"Wow."

"I know!"

"And still no card?"

"Not a thing!" Lisbon said, making a confused face.

"Huh. If I were you, I'd be burning with curiosity."

"Oh, trust me, I am…"

Shaking her head, she turned to Jane. "You are coming with me. The victim's sister is here with a lawyer, asking to see you. I don't know what you did, but whatever it is, you will regret it."

"Can't I at least finish my tea?"

"Now."

Jane sighed, putting his tea cup and saucer on Lisbon's desk.

"I'm going."

Kim watched him walk towards the two strangers outside the bullpen, then turned to Lisbon.

"You look exhausted."

"I had a late night. I was…" she stopped for a minute, assessing Fischer's face.

"Go on."

"I was trying to figure out these flowers."

"And how'd that go?"

Lisbon shrugged, cautious. "It went."

Fischer raised an eyebrow, looking at the brunette opposite her. "Alright. Take it easy today, then."

"Sure thing …" Lisbon replied, watching Kim walk away. It was always awkward when she was nice… but at least she made an effort.

And this gave Lisbon time to figure out the last bouquet.

The bouquet, according to Jane's book, turned out to be a big mix of asters, carnations, a red chrysanthemum, a bunch of daffodils, and a single forget-me-not.

The book also said that it was another love bouquet. Asters symbolized dainty love, the carnations divine love, the daffodils apparently meant sun shining love, wherever that came from, and the forget-me-not meant what it was called.

It also meant true love.

And the red chrysanthemum? It meant I love.

Teresa looked at the bouquet, and couldn't stop the smile from shinning on her face. Her apparently sunshine filled smile.

She had flipped through the book, and came up with an idea.

It was time the 'secret' admirer got a taste of his own medicine.

She waited until everyone had left the office, before pulling out three single flowers—a red rose and a violet. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching her, she tied them together with some ribbon she had picked up on her lunch when she got the flowers, twirling the ribbon and tying a nice bow.

She looked at Jane's couch, breathing in deeply. All packed and ready to bolt, she placed the flowers gently on the middle of his couch, and left the building.

Patrick Jane finished making his nighttime tea, wandering through the dark bullpen to the couch. He wondered what Lisbon was up to, noticing the last bouquet missing from her desk. He wondered if she had put the pieces together yet.

He did make it really obvious.

Continuing towards his sofa, he stopped suddenly, noticing two flowers on his couch, carefully placed directly in the moonlight.

He picked them up, smiling.

His Lisbon had figured it out.

He sat down on his couch, stirring the tea, looking at the rose and the violet.

He couldn't wait until Monday.

Monday came, finally, and Lisbon walked into the bullpen, almost expecting another bouquet on her desk.

Today, there was nothing.

A little off put, she sat down, and began unpacking her bag. Suddenly, the rose and the violet appeared on her paper pile.

"Roses are red, violets are blue," Jane said, smiling and sitting across from Lisbon, who was blushing—blushing!

She shyly smiled.

"You figured out what was going on in my head," he continued.

Lisbon smiled. Knew it!

"I sure did. And I like you too."

Jane smiled, brilliantly. "You rhymed!"

She bit back a comment about time, and smiled again, handing him the book. He sat down, across from her once more.

"Hmm. A rose and a violet, Lisbon. Do you know what they mean?"

Still smiling, she replied. "Of course I do," she handed him the book.

"The Rose is quite obvious," he said, smirking.

"Are you calling my rose common? Because I have one word for you…tulips."

He laughed. "The meaning behind the violet is your favourite, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Let's give happiness a chance; I'll always be true."

"Dinner tonight? I'll pick you up at 7."

"Of course," Lisbon said, still smiling.

They gazed at each other, until Dennis Abbott's voice rang through the bullpen.

"Have any of you seen my travel mugs!? They've disappeared!"

"Jane. You didn't."

He smiled and winked, taking the flowers and rolling on the chair to his couch.

Now Lisbon really had to do her dishes.

A/N IDK WHAT IS WITH ME I JUST KEEP WRITING JISBON IT JUST HAPPENS AND APPARENTLY I DON'T BUTCHER THE CHARACTERS?! IDK?!

But yeah, I got this idea on Tumblr (again) after seeing two separate posts: one about how upset Lisbon must still be, and I thought, it'd be cute if he gave her flowers, AND THEN I SAW A POST SAYING THE SAME THING AND SUDDENLY THIS HAPPENED AND NOW 5 HOURS LATER IT'S ALMOST 1 AM, I DID NO READINGS, AND WROTE A CUTE, FLUFFY, RAINBOWS PUKING RAINBOWS ON UNICORNS SHITTING RAINBOWS JISBON FANFIC.

/end rant

On that note, congrats if you braved the length! I got carried away, but it's really fun writing those two and sticking the other characters in to unite against Jane. I'm literally using Kim as a way to kick Jane's but around because why not.

Reviews are love! Tell me what worked, what didn't work, what you liked, what you hated, how I did with the characters…

ESPECIALLY CHO'S ONE LINER IS IT GOOD IS IT CHO TELL ME PLEASE! :D

I originally was going to cut it off after Dennis asked about travel mugs, but I left it, and tell me if everything after Abbott's line should stay or go, I couldn't decide!

You are all lovely people and goodnight :)