A/N: Warning: Extreme fluff ahead. If you are looking for any kind of serious plot, you should probably turn back now.

Disclaimer: Again, I think these things are pointless. It seems pretty obvious that I'm not making any money off this. It's just for fun.

xxx

Patrick Jane lay on his couch with his eyes closed, thinking about the latest mystery in the Serious Crimes Unit.

It wasn't a murder, for once. It wasn't even a crime. No, the mystery was simply this: Lisbon had left early, and he wanted to know why.

Well, technically she had left at five o clock, but for Lisbon that was practically like playing hooky. He must figure out what had prompted this sudden adherence to her official work schedule.

Of course, she had muttered something about yoga as she was leaving, so one might say that assuming that she had left early to go to yoga class was a safe bet, but Jane didn't quite believe it. Since when was Lisbon so dedicated to an activity that didn't involve guns or some other kind of projectile such as a baseball or a hockey puck?

She had left with Van Pelt, however, which seemed to lend some weight to her claim that she had indeed gone to yoga class. Van Pelt was a health nut and seemed intent on spreading this affliction to the other members of the team. She went to yoga nearly every day and had long ago announced that everyone on the team had an open invitation to join her. She didn't give up when no one jumped at the offer, though. She'd accosted each of them independently, as well. She'd even asked Jane, though of course he'd declined. Cho had just stared at her blankly and went back to his book without dignifying her request with a response when she asked him. Rigsby, presumably the most vulnerable of them all, due to his general inability to deny the red-haired agent anything she asked of him, managed to mumble some unintelligible excuse likely borne of his reluctance to put himself in too close of proximity to his ex-girlfriend while she wore those form-fitting yoga outfits.

Jane's brain detoured for a moment as he imagined Lisbon in tight yoga pants and a tank top, her bare shoulders pale, with a smattering of freckles—

He forced his mind to revert back to the task at hand. The rest of the team had found it easy enough to beg off of joining Grace in her favorite hobby. Lisbon, however, had been worried about Van Pelt ever since the incident with O'Laughlin. Her maternal instincts going into protective overdrive as a result of this would have made it difficult for her to refuse any request Van Pelt made of her, particularly if it were a personal request. Lisbon would feel that Van Pelt was emotionally vulnerable right now; if she could provide moral support to the younger agent by accompanying her to yoga, she would feel obligated to do so.

Yes, it was entirely possible that Lisbon had indeed gone to yoga when she left early. Still, there was something off about the whole theory. She hadn't cast one longing glance at the paperwork on her desk when she left. It was though she was actually *happy* to be going to yoga with Van Pelt. Maybe she had decided to take his advice to take more time for herself and make a real effort to spend her off hours relaxing.

He shifted on his couch, oddly discomfited by the idea of Lisbon consistently leaving the office at a reasonable hour instead of allowing him to convince her to join him for a cup of tea after she'd waded through her most recent pile of paperwork. And tonight, she hadn't even stopped to tease him for few minutes before she left. That was part of their routine—she wasn't going to change that for good, was she?

He realized his blood pressure had started to rise in response to the anxiety that this thought produced and he forced himself to calm down. Just because Lisbon may have gone to yoga for one night didn't mean she was going to suddenly stop being a workaholic and leave him without a late night tea companion.

Cho interrupted his musings by tossing a file on his chest. "Wake up," he said gruffly. "We've got a case."

Jane opened his eyes and stood up. "I wasn't asleep," he said with dignity, handing the file back to Cho. He never read files unless there was a damn good reason to. Cho ought to know that by now.

"Whatever. Boss is on her way back. Van Pelt is coming too."

Rigsby came over to stand next to them. "What's up?"

"Triple homicide in Folsom," Cho said curtly.

"Intriguing," Jane said.

"What do we have so far?" Rigsby asked.

Cho shook his head. "Let's wait til the boss gets here. I don't want to go through this twice."

Van Pelt arrived first. "Hey, guys," she said cheerfully.

"Hey," Rigsby said. "How was yoga?"

She beamed at him. "It was great. Thank you for asking." Her smile faded a bit. "Although it would have been better if I hadn't had to come back to an evening of murder afterwards."

"Where's Lisbon?" Jane asked her.

Van Pelt looked at him blankly. "I have no idea."

Jane frowned and would have inquired further, but Rigsby straightened up and hit Cho lightly on the arm, looking over Jane's shoulder. "Here she comes," he said, a note of awe in his voice.

Jane turned to see what he was staring at and his jaw nearly dropped. It didn't, of course, but the fact that it nearly did was troubling. Though given the sight before him, it would have been completely understandable if it had.

Lisbon was walking towards them, her hair long and loose around her shoulders. Jane's eyes raked over her. She was wearing a dress. And not just any dress. A dress that hugged her curves and ended in a swishy skirt that did amazing things for her legs. Namely, it allowed them to be seen. Jane could count the number of times he'd seen Lisbon in a skirt on one hand, and while he'd known she had fantastic legs, this dress was making him think fantastic was a truly inadequate way to describe them. This was no demure court skirt, this dress ended *above the knee.* Not far above the knee—this was Lisbon, after all—but nonetheless, he was afforded a tantalizing glimpse of thigh as she strode towards them. The strappy high heels adorning her feet made her legs look even longer than they actually were—how could someone so short have such long legs?—and added a slight sway to her hips, which, paired as it was with her usual authoritative gait, was nothing less than mesmerizing.

"Hey," she greeted them with a smile once she reached their little group. Jane was disturbed to find that he found the combination of the dress and the smile at the same time had him somewhat staggered. He never staggered. Never even lurched. But still…

"Wow," Rigsby said, echoing Jane's unconscious thoughts. He looked at Lisbon in appreciation.

"Hey," Cho said, in his usual expressionless manner. "You look good."

"You look amazing," Rigsby corrected him.

She blushed prettily. "Thanks, guys." She glanced at Jane, who was still gaping at her, and then quickly looked away.

"I told you that dress was perfect for you," Van Pelt said smugly. "You look totally hot."

Jane was still staring at Lisbon, and she must have felt his eyes on her, because she looked back at him with a questioning look in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but for once, he had no idea what he was going to say. He should probably make some offhand remark about her appearance that would make her feel confident about her wardrobe choice, but made him appear unaffected by Lisbon and her legs. Instead, he heard himself say accusingly, "You said you were going to yoga."

She blinked, nonplussed by his tone. "I did go to yoga."

He waved vaguely at her dress and heels. Lisbon had very attractive feet. How had he not known this about her? And they were practically bare. Good Lord, he was losing it. Obsessing over Lisbon's feet, of all things. Her nearly naked, downright sexy feet. He refocused. "You didn't wear that to yoga."

"No," she agreed. "I didn't."

"Aha!" Jane said, feeling victorious.

Van Pelt looked at him oddly. "Jane, the class we went to ended two hours ago."

Rigsby grinned at Lisbon. "So, hot date, huh?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she did it, so Jane could tell she wasn't annoyed. "Well, yeah, actually," she said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Jane relaxed. Of course. It was obvious. He should have seen it. If he hadn't been so distracted by the dress, and the legs, and the feet, he would have realized right away that this was clearly a date outfit. This explained that nagging feeling he'd had that yoga hadn't been a satisfactory explanation for her early departure from the CBI this evening.

This was good. He was glad Lisbon had gone on a date. He worried about her sometimes. A date was just the thing to shake up her personal life ever so slightly, which he firmly believed she needed. "Ah, a first date outfit," he said confidently, regaining his equilibrium now that the mystery had been solved. "Always good to make a strong first impression, Lisbon. Excellent choice."

"Fourth date," she corrected him.

"Excuse me?"

"This was the fourth date, not the first date," she informed him.

There went his equilibrium. The fourth date?

Lisbon didn't have fourth dates. She didn't even have second dates. Every so often, she had a first date. This left her either unusually relaxed the next day if it had gone well and she'd decided to sleep with the guy, or slightly depressed and in need of a little extra attention from her consultant in the form of him buying her a favorite dessert, or a late night chat over a cup of tea, or possibly both. Not that she'd ever say anything about it, of course; Jane could just tell these things.

But the point was, even if she slept with the guy, it never seemed to go beyond one night. He'd wondered about this occasionally, and had come to the conclusion that most men simply weren't up for the challenge of keeping up with Lisbon. And she didn't have the patience for anyone who failed to keep up. She might go for the short-term release of a physical encounter for one night, but she wasn't about to let anyone else slow her down in the long run. It was one of the qualities he found most appealing about her.

But she'd gone on four dates with this yokel, and he hadn't even noticed. He quickly ran through the past few weeks in his head to account for times these alleged dates may have taken place. Hm. Last week she'd worked late every night, but she'd left at eight on Thursday, and she'd seemed distracted when she said good-bye to him. At the time, he'd assumed she was preoccupied with the case they'd been investigating that week, but now her distracted exit had the ominous air of having been date number three.

The second date had probably been over the previous weekend, likely on a Saturday. He wouldn't necessarily have noticed any change in her behavior, if she had gone on a date on a Saturday. He rarely saw Lisbon on Saturdays, unless they had a case. Saturday was a highly overrated day of the week, in his opinion. It was really his least favorite day. At least on Sunday, Monday morning was just around the corner and he didn't have the whole dreaded weekend stretching out endlessly before him. Or, if he didn't feel like waiting until Monday, he could call Lisbon up and convince her to go to the park and eat ice cream with him. For some reason, this had become acceptable behavior to him, but Saturdays he still felt he should allow her to have to herself. He scowled. Maybe it was time to rethink that policy.

That left the first date. But try as he might, he couldn't figure out when this day of notoriety had occurred. At least, not without additional information.

"Who was the date with?" Rigsby asked, and Jane remembered the whole team was having a conversation about Lisbon's dating life separate from the one he was having with himself in his head.

"His name is Brian."

Brian. What a boring name. Jane smirked. "Cop or lawyer?"

Lisbon looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

"The only men you ever meet are cops and lawyers. Which is he?"

Lisbon stuck her chin out. "He's a vet."

What?

"How did you meet him?" Jane demanded. This was terrible. Lisbon loved animals. Tough, no nonsense Lisbon melted into a soft gooey puddle of affection in the presence of dogs, no matter how ugly and mangy the mutt might be. In fact, it could be argued that the uglier and mangier the mutt was, the more likely Lisbon was to like it. She would undoubtedly find a man who spent all his time ensuring the well-being of small, furry creatures very attractive.

She looked at him a little askance, but answered placidly enough. "We met at a softball game. We both play in a rec league that has games every Monday. He hit a long single to left field he was trying to stretch into a double. I tagged him out at second base and he asked me out for a drink after the game."

Ah, so that had been date number one. Jane's brain was too busy processing this information to come up with a snide remark about Lisbon never letting a man get past second base.

That was very clever of this Brian, asking Lisbon out after the game. She would have already been relaxed and comfortable, and would have felt no pressure to act or dress like anything other than her normal, tomboyish self. This softball incident also demonstrated that they shared common interests. The way to Lisbon's heart was definitely through the ability to recite sports statistics and demonstrate one's prowess on a field or rink of some kind. Well played, Brian the vet.

Lisbon cleared her throat. "Anyway, enough about my love life. Can someone please tell me about the murder we're supposed to be investigating?"

Cho handed her the folder he'd tried to give to Jane earlier. "We caught a triple. Local PD is securing the scene until we can get to Folsom. I told them not to touch anything until our forensics team gets there."

"Good." Lisbon leafed through the folder and Jane maneuvered himself closer to her so he could read over her shoulder. Like he said, he never read files unless there was a damn good reason to. Standing close to Lisbon was one of the very few reasons that qualified.

When he looked down, however, his eyes never quite made it to the folder. He sucked in a breath involuntarily, feeling as though he'd been sucker punched. The dress she was wearing was rather low cut, and the angle from which he was currently experiencing it gave him a rather dizzying view of the swell of her breasts. He was close enough to see the freckles on her chest. He was seized by the sudden thought that he'd like to spend some quality time counting them some day, or possibly mapping them like constellations.

This was unlike him. He was supposed to be on a single-minded mission for revenge—he wasn't supposed to allow himself to be distracted by the freckles on a woman's chest. Even if it was Lisbon.

He certainly shouldn't be thinking about what a useless profession veterinary medicine was, or how he'd always been suspicious of grown men who played softball in recreational leagues.

"Do we have IDs on any of the vics yet?" Lisbon asked.

Her dress was a very unusual color, Jane reflected. Somewhere between blue and purple. Periwinkle, he'd say.

"Not yet," Cho answered.

If someone had asked him thirty minutes ago, he would have said Lisbon couldn't even identify the color periwinkle, let alone own a dress in it. Maybe he didn't know Lisbon as well as he thought he did at all. There was a strange tightening in his chest at the thought.

"Shouldn't be too hard to run them through the facial recognition program once we get the crime scene photos," Van Pelt commented.

"Okay, we'll see what we've got once we get over there," Lisbon said. "What about the murder weapon?"

"There was a .32 left at the scene," Cho reported. "Not much doubt that it's the murder wea-"

"Lisbon," Jane interrupted, fingering the place where the periwinkle fabric met her shoulder. Her skin was even softer than the dress. "What color would you say this dress is?"

"What?" Lisbon looked down at herself distractedly. "I dunno. Purple?"

Jane sighed in relief. At least the pod people hadn't taken over Lisbon's body. She was still Lisbon. He'd been starting to worry.

Cho gave Jane a look that roughly translated in Cho-speak as, 'You're an idiot,' but he didn't say anything aloud.

Lisbon closed the file and handed it back to Cho. "All right. I've got to change out of this ridiculous dress, and then we can go, okay? We leave in ten minutes." With that, she turned on her heel and marched into her office.

The team dispersed, leaving Jane alone gaping after her, considering if there was the remotest possibility he could get away with trying to peek through the blinds without the rest of the team realizing.

Cho shot him a withering look. "Don't even think about it, man."

Jane straightened and smoothed his vest down over his chest. He gave Cho his most charming smile. "I haven't the least idea of what you're referring to, Agent Cho."

Cho rolled his eyes and Jane wandered off to the kitchen, hoping he would have enough time for a cup of tea to calm himself down before they left. After experiencing the unpleasant revelation that Lisbon had suddenly started having a life without him noticing and the decidedly pleasant proximity to her periwinkle dress in such close succession to one another, he was in need of something soothing.