Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing and claim no rights to use. I do hope Bruno Heller decides not to sue, because all he'd get would be a mortgage, a husband, a baby boy, and two cats. Be forewarned, oh Primerose Hill Productions gods... the black wookie cat steals sports watches.

A/N: This first chapter was written for Yuletide 2009, but the 7 Deadly Sins challenge comes from the Fantasy Script board. I originally wanted to wait to post until I had a few more sins 'in the can' - so to speak. But procrastination is my middle name. So here it is, my first Mentalist attempt. Please let me know how I did, concrit is greatly appreciated! Shout-outs to betas Chichuri and Celia Stanton. Also to fellow Mentalist fan buds Hardly Loquacious and SpaceAnJL for the insanely entertaining emails breaking down all things Mentalist-y.

Before the Fall

(Pride)

"Of all the causes which conspire to blind, Man's erring judgment and misguide the mind; What the weak head with strongest bias rules, is pride, the never-failing vice of fools." Alexander Pope

Judge Burton stood atop the dais, his voice booming out over the speaker as he addressed the crowd at the banquet that was meant to boost his cash coffers and his voting numbers. His basso voice accentuated his authority just as his flashy smile and thousand-dollar suits played up his charm. Burton waved his hand outward, an all-encompassing gesture meant to make the listeners feel like he was welcoming them to his point of view. Vote for him for state supreme court and law would be upheld, order restored and the streets would be safe again. Should've had a broom in one hand as a prop.

Patrick Jane wanted to gag. Actually, he wanted to lay the good judge open to the crowd of grinning sheep and reveal the wolf they were ready to plunk their money down behind. Maybe throw in a right jab to the nose, just for good measure. But Jane wasn't given to physical brutishness. Fact was, he was usually on the receiving end of it more often than not.

Jane wasn't fond of authority; even less when it was wrapped up in pompous blowhards who thought they were above the law. Especially pompous blowhards who seduced young, impressionable girls, who happen to be their step-daughters. Then said step-daughter ends up dead in a back alley of supposed drug overdose. Of course, Jane saw the staged crime scene for what it was – Burton's daughter was no more a drug head than he was. The judge also had quite the reputation as a lady's man with the young aides and clerks that flitted through his offices. So, when the little drips and drabs of information kept pointing back to dear 'ol step-daddy, Jane knew Judge Burton had killed sixteen year old step-daughter Rachel.

The fact that on the past two occasions Jane had tried to question Burton, the judge verbally swatted Jane across the face with his past as a grand charlatan (all politicians being the very definition of term not withstanding), only made Jane itch to see the man taken down. He stood at the back of the auditorium, hands in his pockets to hide the fact that he was fidgeting, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He swiveled his gaze around the room from time to time, always coming back to the judge. With every peal of applause, Jane huffed incredulously.

A petite form at his side shifted her gaze toward him and smirked. "What? He's not winning you over with promises of stricter punishments for criminals and improving the judicial system?"

Jane cocked a brow her way and scoffed. "Hardly. And I've heard better spiels put on by carnival barkers." He motioned to the crowd, "He's following the age-old rule of saying exactly what they want to hear. Everything they didn't hear from the competition, and making sure his body language backs up his statements."

As Agent Lisbon turned back to Burton, Jane leaned in toward her, conspiratorially. "See how he puts his right hand over his heart every time he makes a promissory statement? He's purposely doing that at the right times because it should mean he's telling the truth."

"Maybe he is telling the truth. Besides, I thought you said that most body language indicators were subconscious. Couldn't be faked."

Jane gave a sideways grin. "Oh please, Lisbon. Trust me, he's faking it. Putting on a show. Besides, when's the last time a politician was truthful?"

She agreed with that. Nodding toward the dais she said, "He should be wrapping up his sales pitch soon and then we can find somewhere more private to question him about Rachel."

Jane could tell from her tone that Lisbon wasn't looking forward to dealing with Burton again. The man made no attempts to hide his belittlement of her being a woman on the job – a very pretty woman, he'd said (and Jane's teeth ground just remembering the leer behind the words). But even through his sidestepping and his name-dropping of higher-ups in the CBI, Lisbon remained ever the professional. She'd smile in faux deference to his supposed prestige and then turn the conversation back to the matter at hand. Jane inwardly beamed with pride – always able to take care of herself, his Lisbon.

But he'd taken over the questioning when he tired of all the political evading. Jane didn't give a damn who the judge knew or what strings he could get pulled, he knew the man killed his twenty year step-daughter. So, he started poking his stick in Burton's cage to get a reaction – only the reaction wasn't what he'd intended. If there was anything Jane couldn't stand, it was some asshat trying to patronize him.

Lisbon had cut off the pleasantries before Burton could get within swinging distance of Jane. Once they were outside his office she turned on him. "Are you trying to screw up this case?"

Jane put on his best 'innocent-face'. "What? That? Meh – he's all talk. You needn't worry, Lisbon."

"I'm not worried about my job, Jane," she'd ground out, "I'm worried about him getting us kicked off this case. He could do it, you know. Now that he knows we see him as suspect number one, he's going to start flexing his political muscles. And I, for one, don't want to have to go tell Rachel's mother why her daughter's killer got off – because my bull-headed consultant couldn't keep his pride in check!"

Jane's smile-mask fell just a bit. "My pride?"

"Yes. This guy is pushing your buttons, Jane. So scale it back a notch."

Jane sighed and turned back toward the Judge, as the other man was finishing his speech. Pride wasn't influencing him. He was just doing his job – as Lisbon was always nagging him to do – and to do that, he needed to find what ruffled the Judge's feathers to get him to slip up. Make the ego-maniacal sonofabitch say something that would let them rip the rug out from under him. Jane didn't have buttons to push, certainly none that a pompous political pimp like Burton would ever discover.

Just then, Agent Cho appeared next to Lisbon. "Spoke to Burton's aide, said the judge would meet us in the hallway outside as soon as his speech was over."

"Didn't figure he wanted to be seen by all of his financial backers talking to the CBI in the wake of his step-daughter's murder."

Cho, ever the master of the stone-faced deadpan, looked past Lisbon's head. His frown deepened and he swallowed. For Cho, this was the equivalent of abject horror and Lisbon was suddenly worried.

"Looks like Burton's not going to have a choice about that, boss," Cho offered, nodding toward the dais.

Lisbon whirled around to find her wayward consultant gone. He was strolling merrily up to the judge's podium, just as Burton was acknowledging his applause at the end of his speech.

"Oh shit," she breathed.

By the time Lisbon caught up with Jane, Burton's face was turning a lovely shade of crimson. She really needed to invest in a leash for him. Maybe a shock collar – every time he did something to embarrass her or generally frustrate the hell out of her, she could give him a shock.

Damn. The batteries would be dead inside a day, she thought.

Burton was flanked by his aides and one hulking gorilla Lisbon figured to be his bodyguard. The guy was carrying. She really didn't want to have to tackle him if he decided to go after Jane.

"My but don't you just have the perfect set up," Jane was saying, his smile predatory and sharp. Lisbon had noticed that Jane's most obvious charm – his smile – had many different shades to it. "You fleece the unsuspecting dolts that you charm with fast talk and empty promises, you're given center stage to feed your ego while you feed your baser desires with young, beautiful clerks in your office. I bet you make the young ones think you're the fatherly benefactor, helping them along in their careers."

Burton's dark eyes bored into Jane; the muscle in the side of his cheek quivering. Jane was taking in the murderous energy and letting it fuel the indignation running his tirade. Lisbon had to stop this.

"Jane!" She took hold of his arm, trying to deflect him from his target. "What are you doing? I told you to tone it down." She should have known better than to think he'd listen.

Burton suddenly smiled a wicked, smug smile. "Pot, kettle, black, Mr. Jane. I looked you up a long time ago. Your so-called 'psychic' business. Hell, some of your TV spots are still online. You should give lessons in how to work a crowd. Milk them for everything they've got."

Lisbon saw Jane's smile fade just a bit. The judge was searching Jane's armor for a weak spot. She wasn't sure nailing him about his former profession was the weak spot, as Lisbon had never been sure if Jane was repentant for his charlatan act. Sure, it had come back to bite him in the ass – blinding him, actually, when the son of one of his "clients" had sought revenge – but even then, he'd never really said he was sorry for taking advantage of so many. And that had always bothered Lisbon a little.

"It amazes me that a man of your…" Burton looked Jane up and down with disgusted smirk, "character…was ever hired by the CBI. Needed help so badly they didn't care where they got it, I guess," he added, looking to Lisbon.

Screw Jane, Lisbon was going to punch this guy herself. She plastered a placating smile on her face. "I apologize, Judge Burton. We wanted to keep these proceedings private but–"

"Don't apologize to this waste of space, Lisbon," Jane drawled. "How many of your interns have you slept with, Judge? Or did you just prefer your step-daughter because she was easily accessible?" He projected his voice so that no one within 25 yards would miss hearing him.

Burton's smugness was replaced with rage. "How dare you! Do you know what I could do to your career? Your pretty little boss here wouldn't get a post as a meter-maid!"

Jane stepped directly into the judge's personal space, nose to nose. For a moment, Lisbon thought she was about to see Jane get physically violent for the first time. His smile was stark contrast to the deadly glint in those blue-green eyes.

"Why her, you disgusting letch? How'd you get away with it under you wife's nose? Did you have to get her drunk the first time? Wear her down with alcohol while you told her how pretty she was, how mature she'd become..." He pitched his voice low.

Burton was nearly boiling over. "You're done, Mr. Jane. If I have my way, you'll never get within 50 feet CBI property every again!" He was rearing back to swing when aides, bodyguards and Lisbon jumped into action. She stepped between them, pushing the roiling judge away from Jane.

Lisbon pulled Jane back up the aisle, the sounds of the judge's threats echoing behind them. When they emerged from the banquet hall, Rigsby and Van Pelt, who'd been waiting by the door watching the standoff, joined them. Both had semi-shell shocked expressions. They were used to Jane stirring the pot, but they'd never seen him attack someone with so much power so vehemently.

"Well, that went…uh…well." Van Pelt shifted uncomfortably.

All three team members stood aside to give their boss room as she rounded on Jane.

"What the hell was that?" Lisbon blurted, stepping up to Jane.

Jane raised his brows, but was otherwise unperturbed. "He's guilty, Lisbon. Simple as that. I wanted to see what he'd do when faced with the harsh truth." His face split into his most charming grin, "Interesting reaction, wasn't it?"

He was trying to win her to his side. Wasn't going to work. "You think this is a game, Jane? We have no evidence to charge him and you go off making accusations in full view of half the judicial establishment in Sacramento…"

He shrugged. "Details. Don't forget, my dear Lisbon, we had even less to go on when we went after that senator for her aide's death. At least this time, we have a body," he offered helpfully.

Lisbon let out a breath through her nose and counted to ten. "He's a judge. He knows the law. He knows exactly what to say and what not to, and he also knows exactly what we have to have in order to be any real threat to him. He's probably burning up the phone lines to Minelli about getting us kicked off this case."

"Or suspended," Cho muttered behind them.

"It's all about finding the right leverage," mused Jane, as he watched the judge and his entourage get into a waiting limo outside. "He thought he could rattle me off course with a few verbal barbs…"

Lisbon caught the change in the tenor of his voice and recognized it for what it was: hubris. Patrick Jane wasn't used to losing. For all his professions that this job wasn't that important to him, Lisbon knew it was all he had. The showman in him bred a fierce competitive streak, and when a suspect was lucky enough to push his buttons, all her warnings fell on deaf ears.

She found herself speaking her thoughts aloud. "Verbal barbs that happened to be true."

That startled his attention back to her. For a moment, Lisbon saw pain flash across Jane's face, then guilt. He looked down, and Lisbon refused to feel like she'd just kicked a puppy. Jane needed to see that Burton wasn't the only one who didn't like looking at the harsh truth.

After a long second, Jane cleared his throat. "There are ways to get the evidence we need, Lisbon. His wife knows what he did. She knew he was abusing her daughter and she did nothing."

"That may be, but spousal privilege stops her from testifying. The Judge knows that."

"Then we make him believe the wife will waive the privilege and testify anyway. Or leak the truth to the papers. Either way, it will force him to make a damning move." Jane said, staring into her eyes. Willing her to go along.

Lisbon started shaking her head, refusing to let him sway her. No small task when faced with an intense, very convincing and nearly-always-right-Patrick Jane. "No. No, Jane. We aren't going there. If ever there were a case that had to be by the book, it's this." She started to walk away, "You made a promise, anyway."

"Promise?" Jane asked, confused.

Lisbon turned around and gave him a weary look. "You promised me you'd do your job without making messes that I'd have to clean up."

Jane let the corner of his mouth turn up wistfully, as if remembering the day he'd nearly been banished from the team. "Trust me, Lisbon."

"Yeah," she muttered, as the team left the building, "that's what I'm afraid of."

Two days later...

"You just had to do it, didn't you? You just had to push the stakes up to see what would happen. Even after I expressly told you," and Minelli looked to Lisbon as he said that; she was supposed to keep Jane's leash taut, "to back off the Judge. He had Senator Huxley call me. You know Senator Huxley, don't you? The guy who makes sure CBI receives its funding every year? Yes, well, let me tell you, I do not like getting irate phone calls from people who see to it that I get my pension."

Jane nonchalantly toyed with Minelli's name plate. "Oh please, Virgil. You'll be able to retire and play golf on some sunny little course in Florida, no worries. Besides, my plan worked like a charm."

He smirked at Lisbon, only to find that she had moved to the other side of Minelli's desk. Her eyes were lowered, but the set of her mouth told Jane exactly what she was feeling. Anger. His cocky grin faded a notch as he watched her, and it occurred to him that she hadn't spoken a word to him since they left the Judge's house.

Minelli leaned forward on his desk. "You hypnotized the wife against her will…"

"She knew what her husband had done. She was just too scared to admit it or too scared of him...or whatever..."

"You made her mention to a reporter that she had evidence against her husband. You made her into bait trying to draw out the judge…"

"So?" Jane shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lisbon cringing. Suddenly, Minelli's tongue-lashing had lost its amusement.

"So!? The fact that her life was in danger, that a hit man tried to kill her and nearly succeeded, doesn't bother you?" Minelli asked, disgusted. "She got shot, Jane."

"She'll live. Which is more than I can say about her daughter." Jane's tone grew cold. "I knew that if I had the wife say that she was going to the police within the day, Burton would panic and make a mistake. The bastard called the hit man from his own cell phone." He tilted his head matter-of-factly, "Besides, we got there in time."

Minelli sighed. "Yeah. Lucky us. An illegal entrapment case if I ever saw one. The Judge could get off, y'know. All because you can't follow the rules, Jane."

Jane was tiring of going around and around in circles. He knew Minelli would slap his wrist, probably make some plead to Lisbon about keeping a tighter reign on him, and then send them out to find more bad guys. He was thinking about the new box of Chinese tea waiting for him in the lounge, when Minelli turned to Lisbon, who had been frighteningly silent. Jane realized she hadn't come to his defense (not that he really expected her to) nor had she apologized for him. In fact, he was starting to worry about his petite partner.

"This is one giant pooch-screw of a case, Lisbon. You know that." Minelli said.

Lisbon nodded minutely. Then, she looked up and Jane's concern kicked up a notch. She'd made her face completely blank, but Jane could see the weariness in her eyes. The anger and disappointment. And he was the cause. Something shifted uncomfortably in his chest.

"I know, sir," she answered. "I continually fail to keep Jane in line, and I take full responsibility for this case getting blown to hell in court."

"I ought to suspend you."

"Wouldn't blame you if you did, boss."

"Uh…time out," Jane interjected, standing up. "Lisbon isn't to blame for this. She knew nothing about it. It was my plan and I did it all without Lisbon being a part of it."

Minelli gave him an ironic smile. "And therein lies the rub, doesn't it Jane? You did this behind Lisbon's back. She's your supervisor. But more than that, she's your partner. And you drug her into your little charade by association. Everything you do while under the auspices of the CBI reflects on the CBI, haven't you learned that by now?"

Jane's high from bringing Judge Burton down was crashing fast, and he didn't like the let-down effects. Lisbon was taking the fall for his shenanigans, only this time, things seemed much more serious. Minelli's words about Lisbon being his partner started to sink in, and Jane suddenly felt queasy. When he returned to the office from his little visit with Mrs. Burton, Lisbon had asked him if he'd gone back to bother Burton on his own. He lied – quite brilliantly – to her face. Now, all he wanted to do was to get her to look at him. Say something to him, anything. Even if she called him a shifty bastard…

"No," Lisbon said, making Jane startle out of his thoughts, "he hasn't learned that because he doesn't care to learn. I don't think he cares at all."

Okay. Ouch. Jane swallowed. "You know, it's awfully rude to talk about someone in the third person when that person is standing two feet from you." Tried to catch her eye, but she remained facing Minelli.

Lisbon stood, shoving her hands in her pockets. "You can't trust him, boss." She looked down, muttering, "I can't trust him. Maybe someone else could do better with him."

Something in Jane let out a high-pitched squeal of fear. His stomach dropped to his knees What?! "Uhm…could you not refer to me like a puppy that can't be paper trained? Actually, if you're going to refer to me at all, woman, could you at least…you know…turn and refer to me?"

"You'd really transfer, Teresa? Leave your team?" Minelli asked, skeptically.

But Lisbon held a brave, resolved face. "You have to be able to trust your team, sir. All of your team." She shrugged, "I don't know."

Jane's brain kicked into overdrive. Lisbon wasn't going anywhere. Not his Lisbon. Not because of him. "Okay, let's take a minute and cool down, shall we." He leaned in, trying to inject himself between Lisbon and Minelli's desk. "You're not going anywhere, Lisbon," his voice was rough. Turned to Minelli, "And you're not going to transfer your best agent out because some murdering, child abusing judge squealed to his powerful friends when he got caught." Jane hoped he at least sounded surer of himself than he felt. He was a master at reading people, and he knew Minelli was fond of Lisbon. He didn't think Minelli would actually transfer her, but that wasn't what scared the hell out of him.

It was the fact that Lisbon sounded like she'd actually leave. Chuck in the towel on her team…on him. No way. He wouldn't let her. For an agonizing moment, Minelli seemed to call his bluff.

But then he sighed and said, "No. I wouldn't. But it's not really up to me." He nodded to Lisbon, who was starting at the corner of the desk like all the answers to the universe were engraved in its stained and scarred surface. "Teresa?"

Jane inched closer to her, trying with all his might to read her. But she'd shut him utterly out.

"I'll get back to you," she said in a hushed voice. Then turned on her heel and walked out.

Jane watched her leave, then turned back to the older man. Shocked by the turn of events, mentally scrambling through ways to fix it, and suddenly feeling very bereft, he swallowed thickly and offered Minelli a weak smile. "Don't worry. She'll be alright."

"Fix this, Jane," Minelli glared. "I don't want to go shopping for a new lead agent of Serious Crimes.

Guiltily, Jane nodded and went after Lisbon, worrying that maybe this time, he didn't know how to fix it.

"So let me get this straight," said Cho, leaning back in his chair at the conference table. He was flanked by Van Pelt and Rigsby, who'd been called to Jane's "emergency" meeting. "You went out on your own and screwed things up – as usual – but you ended up being right and solving the case – as usual – Lisbon catches hell on your behalf, only this time she won't forgive you."

Something about Cho's monotone recap and the way he seemed to glare without actually moving his eyebrows made Jane want to sink a little further into his chair. Like maybe up to his neck.

Rigsby looked crushed. And pissed. "Yeah. And she might actually ask for a transfer." He fixed Jane with a hard glare. "I don't want to deal with a new boss. I like my boss, Jane."

"She's not going to transfer, guys. C'mon," Jane tried. "Look at all the stunts I've pulled. She weathered them all and she'll weather this one too." Some of certainty in his voice faltered as he looked down at his hands. "She just needs some time to cool off, that's all."

"Why do you do it?" Sweet, idealistic, faithful Grace sounded bitterly accusatory and it made Jane look up quickly. "Why do you always make things difficult for her? Bad enough she has to take responsibility for all of it, but you don't even act like you're sorry for the trouble you cause. She trusted you."

Jane felt the knife twist in his gut at her words.

"As long as you get away with it, you keep doing it," she rebuked, shaking her head.

"Look, contrary to what you all may think, I don't spend my days on that couch thinking up new ways to make Lisbon's life hell," Jane said, feeling like he needed to shift the direction of this little meeting. Fast. Before the guys decided he needed to be burned at the stake or something. "I need your help."

Van Pelt scoffed. "What – if you think we're going to help you by getting Lisbon to forgive you…"

"No, I'm fully capable of getting Lisbon to forgive me on my own." I hope. "We need to make sure the Burton case doesn't get thrown out of court on a technicality. We need evidence that he killed his step-daughter."

"There is none. ME said the body was clean of foreign DNA, nothing under the fingernails, no hair samples. Nothing in Burton's car or bedroom that couldn't be explained away," Cho said.

Jane pulled his arms across his chest. "Sixteen year old girls don't keep many secrets to themselves. They vent to friends–"

"All her friends have been questioned," Rigsby interjected. "They said she'd been reserved and withdrawn lately, but didn't tell them about any abuse."

"What about a diary?" Jane asked.

"Who keeps a diary these days? Everything is blogged, web-journals, Facebook…" Cho informed.

The team all looked at each other for a minute, and Cho raised a brow. "Anyone check to see if she blogged?"

Van Pelt was already grabbing her netbook and tapping away. Jane watched as they gathered around her, watching her work her computer magic. If they could find something that helped take the heat off the CBI and put it back where it belonged, on the judge, then he might be able to go to Lisbon with a nicer olive branch. If she'd talk to him. Which she hadn't in over two days.

Van Pelt eventually found an obscure and locked online journal, owned by the judge's late step-daughter. Jane was relieved when Van Pelt said there was an entry the day before the girl was killed. Even better, it was a video entry of Rachel herself, using the computer as the only safe means to talk about the abuse she was suffering at home.

Jane made sure the district attorney had all the pertinent information, before arriving late in the evening at CBI headquarters. He knew Lisbon would be there, working late. She wouldn't have an excuse to avoid him, like she'd been doing for the past couple of days. They would be alone, in her office.

As he rode in the elevator, Jane thought back over all the quiet moments he'd shared with Lisbon in the peace of the empty office. Lisbon's office was, in many ways, her 'safe place'; she'd retreat there when she didn't want the team to know something was bothering her. Jane had always been lucky – or just ballsy – enough to be able to stroll into her sanctum any time he liked. Now, all he could do was pray she hadn't locked the door, and he wasn't just thinking of the one to her office.

Lisbon paused in her typing to pinch the bridge of her nose. She'd been staring at that screen for what seemed like days. Looking down at the Burton file, she signed her name to the last deposition – the one that outlined her team's discovery of Rachel's online journal entry – and closed the file.

Sometimes, it surprised her how much her team meant to her. Always living up to her "Saint Teresa" nickname, she worried over and protected them like family. It really shouldn't surprise her when they returned the favor. They stuck by her, putting their jobs on the line when she was accused of killing McTeer and continuing to investigate despite being ordered off the case. Now, they found the final nail in Burton's coffin, making conviction likely instead of remote.

They couldn't let well-enough alone. Maybe Jane was rubbing off on them after all. She frowned, her headache choosing that moment to turn up the dial on the throbbing.

Jane. Beautiful, manipulative, irreverent, rule-bending son-of-a-bitch. The man murdered with that smile, and somehow, through everything, she'd forgiven him. Wasn't the first time he'd lied, far from it. Definitely wasn't the fist time she'd caught hell on his behalf. But maybe she was tired of having to apologize for the things he said. Perhaps she was growing weary of having to be at Def Con 3 all the time, waiting for the boom to be lowered when Jane got that "I have a plan" gleam in his eyes.

Maybe she was just all lied out.

He'd made her believe that her trust was important to him, that day he talked her into the trust fall. All the humor vanished, his eyes boring into hers and the soft, sincere tone of his voice as he asked her to understand that he would always be there for her. She shivered at the memory. Having the intensity of Patrick Jane focused wholly on you could be overwhelming, and she wasn't used to him switching from his perpetual nonchalance to a seemingly heartfelt declaration.

Probably hypnotized her or something. The bastard.

Lisbon sighed, frustrated, and turned back to her computer. She felt, more than heard him in her doorway, and irritation made her headache pulse with renewed vigor.

A soft tap on the door frame, but she ignored it, continuing to stare at her computer screen while she closed out of the files she was working on. She could hear him shifting his weight nervously, unsure whether stepping beyond the door will prove hazardous to his health or not. Good, she thought. Let that all consuming self-confidence take a hit or two.

He cleared his throat. "So," he began, but she could tell by the softness of his tone that he was treating her like a caged animal – soft voices and slow movements. "Burton's lawyers are squealing for a deal after that video of Rachel came out." He inched closer to her desk, "Good news, right?"

Lisbon stood up abruptly, file in hand and turned her back fully to him, pretending to organize the papers within the folder. He was right, as always. It was good news about Burton's case. Jane and the team had found the piece of evidence overlooked and managed to hang the judge with it. She should be celebrating with 'case-closed pizza' and beer with the rest of her team. But the man in the room with her – undoubtedly staring at her back with that concerned puppy-dog look – won't let her be.

"Oh come now, woman." He was changing tack, trying to goad her into responding. "You're really going to give me the silent treatment? Really? Because that's going to be sort of hard, seeing as how we work not twenty feet from each other day in and day out."

Lisbon chewed her lip. Sonofabitch had the nerve to sound glib. She'd tried to impress upon him how much she'd sacrificed to get him out of jail, the bridges she'd had to burn with a friend she'd admired, and he'd given her that cheeky grin, a glib retort and skipped on his merry way. No care at all for how things affect her.

Jane had worked his way around the desk, his voice now much closer to her. "This is rather childish, you know," he purred. He pitched his voice low, attempting to get her to move closer, respond in some way. "The silent treatment the past two days... you hinting that you might take a transfer out of the unit? We both know that's just a bluff, my dear Lisbon." She could hear that seductive grin in his voice and it set her teeth on edge. "You'd be utterly bored without me."

The folder slammed down on the cabinet and Lisbon whirled around on her intruder. "Childish?! No, childish is running in half-cocked and doing everything your way despite how it may affect those around you, Jane. Childish is having no regard for the consequences of your actions. Childish is letting your pride get in the way of everything, to hell with who gets in trouble on your behalf!"

She took some pleasure in the way Jane's face fell, abashed. He'd propped himself against her desk, arms confidently crossing his chest, but when she started her barrage, Jane seemed to deflate. He winced at her words, and Lisbon inwardly claimed some victory at being able to elicit an emotional response. Not often did she gain the upper hand with Jane, and if she had to hurt him a little to get him to open his eyes, then so be it. He'd hurt her enough already.

"Look, I'm sorry, Lisbon." He stared at his hands, something he did when trying to deal with his real emotions when his mask slipped off. Lisbon knew she was getting to him, now. "I couldn't let that bastard get away with killing his step-daughter. I regret that you and the CBI took the brunt of the political fallout, but I'd do it again if I had to." He looked up and into her eyes, seriously. "But I'm truly sorry that this hurt us."

Oh, he's good. Too good. Lisbon wanted to give in – those blue-green eyes, that angelic face full of hope and remorse. But there was a cautionary tale to Patrick Jane, Lisbon knew. He was such an accomplished liar that one rarely knew when to take him at his word. Master manipulator. The King of Cons. Lisbon kept her wall erect.

"Us?"

"You and me," Jane clarified. "I'm sorry that this ordeal…well…put a dent in your trust in me." He gave her a shadow of his normal "trust me and everything will be alright" smile.

Lisbon sighed. He was saying all the right things. If only she could believe he was saying them for the right reasons. "Those are just words, Jane." She moved around him, toward the door.

A hand reached up and grasped her wrist. Lisbon held her breath as she soaked up the warmth of his palm encircling her wrist. She wasn't used to him touching her, as his displays of physical affection were unpredictable. Usually, they were part of a con, a hypnosis session or hand-holding in order to read heart rates. But occasionally, Jane had launched into her arms for a hug, knocking her world askew for a few seconds and warming her in a way she couldn't predict.

When she turned and warily looked at him, she was surprised to find him staring at the floor again. He remained connected to her though, a life line, and Lisbon knew that even though she'd been hurt, he was the the one who was drowning.

"You're not leaving the unit, are you." It wasn't really a question. And Lisbon knew in her heart that a bullet or forced retirement would be the only things that separated her from her team. No surprise Jane knew it too.

"No," she answered.

He looked up then, and Lisbon had to bite back the lump in her throat. "But you don't trust me," he said. The lines around his eyes suddenly looked stark, standing out against his tanned skin and Lisbon thought he'd aged ten years in ten minutes.

She looked down at their joined hands. "Actions and words, Jane. You want me to trust you, but you do things that are untrustworthy."

Jane stood, moving closer to Lisbon. When she tried to reclaim her hand, he squeezed a little harder, holding on. "So, what do I have to do?" His voice was tinged with hope, but he kept eye contact, boring holes in her. His voice was low and calm, and for a moment, Lisbon thought he might be trying to put a spell on her. "I can't guarantee I won't do what I have to in order to solve a case, Lisbon. That's why you hired me. It's why you keep me around – or so you've told Bosco. I close cases." He moved an inch closer. He was almost towering over her now, and Lisbon had to take her eyes of his. His energy was overwhelming her, and if he was putting the whammy on her, she had a sinking suspicion she wasn't going to be able to resist.

"But I need you to trust me, Lisbon. So what's it gonna take?" Jane murmured.

Things were getting too intense. They were very close now, still holding hands. Very intimate and very lucky it was late and the office was abandoned. She needed to break the spell, dissipate the tension…

She swallowed and looked back up at Jane. He was all concern and sincerity and inappropriately beautiful. She smirked, "It'll take a hellova lot more than those stupid paper frogs."

Something in the room broke and the air seemed to rush back in as Jane's face lit up in a dazzling smile. "Aww, I thought you liked those paper frogs?"

"I don't need a drawer full of them jumping out at me." Lisbon noticed that it was with some reluctance that Jane let go of her hand. Their fingers slipped through each other, the warmth whispering through the meeting of skin until they parted.

They both stood for a moment, looking at the space their hands had occupied, perhaps both mourning the moment that had passed. Then Jane reached out and snagged Lisbon's coat, offering it to her. "Better than a drawer full of real ones." And he chuckled at Lisbon's look of horror. Jane would be just the type to raid a high school science lab and free its amphibious prisoners, letting them take up residence in her office desk.

"What about another trust fall?"

"No." Lisbon turned off the office lights at the headed to the elevator.

"But I liked the trust fall," Jane protested, hitting the hall lights as they passed. "Of all the pedantic techniques those leadership retreats offer, that trust fall was actually useful. Didn't you think so?"

"No."

"Well, then, I'll have to think of something else."

"Oh joy. Can't wait."

Jane paused as Lisbon got on the elevator. She expected him to be at her side, and had to hit the 'hold' button when she saw him standing outside the lift doors. He was watching her with a look that could only be described as endearment. After a moment, Lisbon became a little uneasy. "What?"

"We'll be okay," Jane stated, sounding as certain of that fact as he was that the sun would rise the next day.

Lisbon offered a small smile in return. He'd continue to break the rules, and she'd continue to clean up after him. Just the way it worked with the two of them, and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to change it. But maybe, eventually, she'd get him to think before he leapt. Or at least, give her a heads-up first.

"Yeah," she said as he stepped into the elevator and stood at her side, hands in the pockets of his blazer, smiling down at her, "I think we will."

END