Notes: This was not really what I planned at all when I started writing this, I just kept changing ideas and it ended up being pretty random. The beginning is a bit awkward to read, I think you need to assume that some time passes everytime there is a line. Also, thank-you to "In the name" for helping me come up with ideas for this, make sure to check out her stories for the Mentalist! If you like the Mentalist, vote for it as your favourtie crime show in the poll on my profile! Enjoy the story!

"...Tuesday, May 18: victim was found in a beach change house. She had been drowned in the Pacific Ocean..."

Lisbon sighed. Jane's eyes were the colour of the ocean; well perhaps a purer blue, with the faintest hint of green. She loved the way they lit up when he got a brilliant idea (or so he thought), and the way she felt when those blue eyes were focused on her...

This isn't what it looks like. Really. It may seem like Lisbon is obsessively daydreaming about her consultant, Patrick Jane; but she is in fact, diligently doing her assigned paperwork. She had been given the impossibly boring job of reading over and signing old case files, officially closing them. While doing such impossibly boring work, her mind sometimes got off track and she sometimes thought about Jane; because she was impossibly bored, not because she liked him or anything. Nope. Not a chance. That wouldn't fall under the category of appropriate consultant-boss relationships, and Jane and Lisbon's relationship had always been, and will always be, consultant-boss appropriate. So that meant, back to the paperwork.

"...beekeeper mauled while collecting honey..."

Lisbon loved honey; especially the thick, sweet, light golden stuff that coincidentally shared so many characteristics with her consultant's perfectly kept honey-golden hair. Lisbon often found herself wanting to run her hands through his soft, elaborate, set of curls. Wait, no she didn't. Consultant-boss appropriate, consultant-boss appropriate, consultant-boss appropriate, consultant-boss appropriate. She chanted this in her head for the next three files.

"...skin was burnt and very hot..."

Well, there were a lot of places she could take that one, but she actually did have to get this work done. She skimmed through the rest of the page and signed at the bottom, but she couldn't help the thoughts about how good the name "Teresa Jane" would look in her handwriting on the bottom of that page.

"...7 women assaulted by serial rapist Ike Simon..."

She could have sworn for a second that had said "Irk Some". Obviously, that would remind her of Jane, and his sensitivity when it came to things related to Red John or his family. She replayed Jane's voice in her head, 'He irks me. He's irksome." She had always admired the passion and perseverance that Jane showed for his mission to avenge his family; in a respectful, colleague sort of way, of course. This was getting ridiculous. What was next? A murder on a pony farm?

10 impossibly boring minutes later...

"...victim was found in a wooden box..."

Box. Boxers. Lisbon wondered what kind of boxers Jane kept hidden under his designer suit pants. She had always had a strange obsession with polka dot boxers; everybody in the world has at least one strange turn-on, and this was definitely Lisbon's. And, she was certainly not getting any work done now that she had a very detailed image of her consultant in nothing but a pair of red polka dot boxer shorts assaulting her brain. This paperwork was officially hopeless; she just wished something would happen so that she would have an excuse to leave her desk. If she had to sit here for five more impossibly boring minutes, she swore, she would fall asleep.

"Lisbon! Lisbon!" Right on cue, Jane burst into the room yelling her name. He was bent over, coughing. There were fresh burns on the skin of his arms and face; and most of his suit was ripped or burnt away, allowing Lisbon to stare at a pair of clean white shorts patterned with every colour of polka dots. "The kitchen is on fire!" He said, finally catching his breath.

"Are you wearing polka dot boxers?" Lisbon asked, staring at a particularly large hole charred in his pants.

"What? Did you hear me? The kitchen, down the hall, is on fire!"

"I can't believe you're wearing polka dot boxers." said Lisbon, still staring with wide eyes.

"Lisbon! Snap out of it! The. Kitchen. Is. On. Fire."

"That is so... sexy."

"The kitch - wait a minute. What did you just say?" Jane said, snapping back up into a standing position. Jane's sudden movement caused Lisbon to move her eyes away from the shorts and look up at Jane's face. Crap. Did she really just say - no. She wouldn't have.

"Oh, umm. Nothing, I was just talking about this case and... stuff." She tried to lie, but it didn't work. He knew she was lying, Lisbon could tell by the way his ocean blue eyes bore- ocean blue eyes! She walked over to touch Jane's arm where it was burnt, it was very warm. Ocean blue eyes, hair the colour of honey, hot skin, and polka dot shorts? Those were too big of coincidences; she had to be dreaming, right? She still wasn't sure though, she had never dreamt so vividly before.

"I hate it when you try to lie to me Teresa. It irks me." Jane said, looking sincerely hurt.

"It irks me?" Okay, this was definitely a dream. Lisbon didn't seem to be waking up any time soon, so she might as well make the most of it, there was nothing in the rules about her dreams being consultant-boss appropriate. She moved her hand from his burnt arm to his burnt face, and getting right down to business, began to kiss Jane very passionately. Her make-out session didn't last very long though, and Jane was the one to break it off.

"Uhhh Lisbon... I don't think this is exactly consultant-boss appropriate." How did he know about that? Oh right, she was dreaming.

"I don't care" she said, moving in towards Jane again.

"Wait," said Jane using a hand on her shoulder to keep her back, "since when do you not care about the rules?"

"Since this is a dream."

"Oh really? So this is what you dream about?" said Jane, sounding rather entertained at the idea.

"Well, I'm dreaming it right now, aren't I?" she said with a playful smile.

Something in Jane's next words was a little too serious for her liking.

"Are you?"

What do you think? Was Lisbon dreaming? Let me know what you thought!