Final chapter! Thanks again to everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy the last chapter.

xxx

Lisbon was in meetings all morning, so she didn't see Jane at all for the first half of the day. When she escaped the last one and went to the fridge to find her lunch, she discovered it was missing. Cursing Rigsby under her breath as the likely culprit, she checked her watch and decided to run down the street to grab a sandwich. Knowing that the seminar was slated to take place in a room ill-suited to hosting practically the entirety of the CBI, she planned to return from lunch by quarter to one and stake out a spot early. Unfortunately, she was delayed on her way back in, first by a logjam at the security line, then as a result of being waylaid in the hall by Rigsby, who had spilled coffee all over his 442 forms and was worried about submitting them on time. After helping him resolve the issue, she hurried over to the conference room with less than a minute before the meeting was scheduled to begin.

A hot, humid wave of body heat struck her full in the face when she entered the room. The place was packed—there were well over a hundred employees in a space designed to hold thirty to forty people at maximum. People had dragged in desk chairs from other offices because there weren't enough seats, but even with the extra chairs, a significant number of people ended up standing in the back or along the sides of the room. The ancient air conditioner sputtered and choked in the face of the daunting task of cooling a room with so many people inside it. A thin trickle of cool air from a handful of vents was all that it could manage.

Rigsby, at her heels, spotted Grace and Cho sitting next to each other and made a beeline to stand at Grace's elbow. Grace turned and waved her over to join them, but though she was sure Rigsby would muscle aside as many bodies as necessary to make space for her to stand next to them, Lisbon waved her off. She had to find Jane so she could keep an eye on him.

She spotted him standing at the back by the far window, barely visible behind the crush of bodies pressed close together in the confined space. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisbon shouldered her way through the crowd so she could take her place by his side in the back row.

Jane's face lit up when he saw her. "Hey, Lisbon," he greeted her with a smile. His smile turned to a smirk. "Nice shirt," he said, amused.

"Thank you," she said demurely, but on the inside, she felt entirely smug. She'd chosen her plainest, most severely cut white blouse for the occasion…and buttoned it up to her throat. She'd honored the deal. She'd put on the infamous pink lace bra, but Jane wouldn't have a chance in hell of seeing any of it. She was quite proud of her downright Jane-like solution to the problem, all in all. Not to mention deeply satisfied by giving him a taste of his own medicine for once.

He gestured to the collar, which would have made any Catholic school nun proud. "Sure you're not going to be too hot in here?"

"I'll be fine," Lisbon said dryly. It was pretty hot in here, but she'd manage. There was no way she was giving Jane the satisfaction of unbuttoning this thing for the sake of a few degrees relief from the heat. "Thanks for your concern."

Platt, a bear of a man from the Organized Crime unit, bumped into her accidentally, causing her to jostle against Jane to avoid being crushed by the bigger man's bulk. "Sorry, Lisbon," Platt gasped, sweating profusely. "Damn hot in here, isn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, Platt," she said, edging closer to Jane to avoid the droplets of sweat dripping from Platt's brow. "You all right?"

"Fine," he wheezed.

"You don't look so good," she said, concerned. "You should go up front, try to get a seat."

"Nah, I'll be all right," he said, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and mopping his forehead.

"Seriously," she said. "You know Cho, right?"

"Sure," he said. "Quiet guy, right?"

"That's the one," Lisbon said. "He's got a seat partway up the aisle on the right there. Go tell him I asked him to let you have his seat. I'm sure he won't mind."

"I dunno," Platt said, embarrassed. "I don't even know the guy."

"I insist," Lisbon said firmly. "I'll square it with him later."

"All right," Platt said gratefully. "Thanks, Lisbon."

She shooed him off, catching Cho's eye and trying to communicate her request silently as Platt lumbered towards him. Cho, sharp as ever, stood before Platt even opened his mouth and offered him his seat. Lisbon gave him a pleased smile, mouthing a silent 'thank you' to her second in command. Cho gave her a brief nod and went to stand next to Rigsby.

"That was good of you," Jane remarked from behind her, his breath whispering across the shell of her ear. Her skin prickled with awareness—she'd forgotten how close he was. Though the departure of Platt's bulk should have left more space where they were standing, somehow all the space had been taken up by other shifting bodies in their vicinity. She and Jane were wedged together in the corner. Her breath came a little faster.

"It was good of Cho, really," she said, her pulse beating rapidly in her throat. God, it really was hot in here. She looked around, belatedly realizing that the leaders of the seminar were nowhere in sight. "What the hell is the hold up? They were supposed to start five minutes ago."

"Probably got held up at security," Jane said idly. "The line took forever, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Lisbon said distractedly. Jane smelled ridiculously good. And she could feel his body heat emanating from him, which should have been a huge turn off since it was so damn hot in here, but instead, he felt pleasantly warm. She blinked, trying to get her mind off the subject of Jane's many attractive physical qualities. Like she didn't have enough reminders of those normally without being practically pressed up against the man in an overcrowded room.

"Here, I saved you a spot under the air conditioner." Jane took her by the shoulders and maneuvered her so she was standing half in front of him.

Lisbon closed her eyes and tilted her face up towards the weak puff of cool air wafting towards her, hoping it would cool her heated cheeks. Jane was still standing entirely too close.

The leaders of the seminar arrived then, looking frazzled and apologizing profusely. They hastened to assure the group of agents that they would get started right away.

"There," Jane murmured into her ear. "Isn't that better?"

It took her a moment to realize he was referring to their position beneath the vent. "Yeah," she managed, the hairs on the back of her neck still prickling with their awareness of his proximity. "Much better."

The seminar began. Five minutes later, the air conditioner shuddered to a grinding halt.

Xxx

The first hour wasn't so bad. Jane, true to his word, hadn't committed a single horribly disruptive act. Without the air conditioner going, the room quickly shifted from uncomfortably warm to sweltering, but Lisbon was so relieved Jane hadn't staged an insurrection by this point, she was willing to deal with the heat. If only she could undo one of these damn buttons, get a little cool air on her neck—

No, she reminded herself. She couldn't give Jane the satisfaction. She straightened her spine and ignored the grumblings of her fellow agents as they muttered to each other about the heat and how the CBI should have invested in bigger meeting spaces if they wanted to have meetings this big, because whoever heard of a half day seminar that had standing room only? The dark grumblings were punctuated by plaintive worries about so and so's bad back, and so and so's bum knee, and really, this whole situation was ridiculous. How was anyone supposed to learn anything standing for hours in a freaking sauna?

Lisbon's resolve held strong until hour two. At that point, a shaft of hot sunlight beamed into the room and hit Lisbon right on the side of her dark head, making her even hotter. The windows were east facing, and it was two o clock in the afternoon, so she couldn't understand this at first, but she squinted into the glare and realized the sun had reached a point in the sky such that its rays bounced off the glass windows of the building opposite the CBI just at the right angle to reflect straight into the conference room, bathing Lisbon and the other agents on this side of the room in bright, hot light.

"Jane," she hissed. "Can you pull down the blinds?" He was standing the closest to the window, but somehow, he appeared unaffected by the heat. In the background, the leaders of the seminar droned on.

Jane glanced up at the window. "I don't know," he said dubiously. "It's kind of high up."

"Can't you do something?" she said desperately. "I'm dying here."

Jane leaned forward and tapped Richards, a former college basketball player who made Rigsby look short, on the shoulder. "Richards," Jane said in a stage whisper. He jerked his head towards the window when Richards turned to look at him. "Think you can reach that thingy for the blinds?" he said, gesturing to the place where the pull cord should have been, but seemed to be missing in this particular instance.

"Oh, yeah," Richards said gratefully. "Good idea." He reached up and tugged at the mechanism to draw the blinds, but it didn't budge. He tugged a little harder and the whole top rail came tumbling down, creating an incredible racket.

The seminar leaders paused, and everyone turned to look for the cause of the noise. "Sorry," Richards said, red-faced and clutching the shambles of the blinds in his hands. "I was trying to get the blinds."

Faces cleared, and instead of being annoyed at the interruption, everyone was inclined to treat Richards as a hero for making the attempt.

"Can you get the ones over here?" someone called from closer to the front.

"Sure," Richards said, straightening. He set the wreckage of the blinds in his hands down on the sill and moved through the room, managing to get the blinds down for every window in the room except the one Jane and Lisbon were standing in front of. When he was finished, the room broke out into applause. Richards returned to his spot near Jane and Lisbon, his ears red with pride and pleasure.

Lisbon sighed. So much for that idea.

Xxx

After another hour, she was starting to feel light-headed. The reflected sunlight still shone directly into her face. Someone from the custodial staff had brought in a few fans, but they had been mostly been placed near the doors and the flow of air hadn't quite reached her and Jane.

Lisbon fidgeted, wishing she'd thought to wear something with short sleeves. Or better yet, something sleeveless. She had plenty of shirts that buttoned to the throat that didn't have sleeves. Why hadn't she been clever enough to think of wearing one of those? And her hair! Why the hell had she worn it down today? She normally carried an elastic in her pocket in case she had to get her hair out of her face to chase down a suspect or something, but she hadn't even thought about it this morning, and now her hair was sticking to the back of her neck. She pulled at the collar of her shirt, desperate for some relief, but it was no use.

She glanced to the side, trying to gauge whether Jane would notice if she unbuttoned just the top button of her shirt. He stood directly next to her now, gazing at the front of the room in the direction of the seminar speakers with the attentiveness of a straight A student listening to a particularly fascinating lesson.

He wouldn't even notice, she reasoned with herself. It would be fine. It was only one button. He still wouldn't be able to see a damn thing. She'd still have the upper hand.

She leaned back slightly, trying to stay out of his line of sight. Surreptitiously, she worked the top button loose with one hand. She got it through the buttonhole at last and breathed a sigh of relief. Much better. She lowered her hand and resumed her customary military posture.

Jane leaned over and whispered in her ear. "I'll be right back."

"What?" Lisbon asked in alarm, the heat forgotten. "Where the hell are you going? You promised to behave!"

"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "You won't even have time to miss me." He squeezed her arm and brushed past her, setting off mental alarm bells in Lisbon's brain. Oh, Lord. What was he up to now?

His statement that she wouldn't have time to miss him had been inaccurate. As soon as he disappeared out the door, her brain came up with a dozen scenarios where his activity while he was out of her line of sight ended in complete and total disaster. Dammit. She should have figured out a way to stop him from leaving. By tackling him to the ground, if necessary. Her brain unhelpfully supplied a vivid mental image of herself pinning Jane to the ground in a less than professional manner.

She shook herself out of the thought. Right, she thought to herself sarcastically. That would be real inconspicuous. She wouldn't even have room to tackle him properly, anyway. Any such attempt would have knocked down half a dozen other people like dominoes. It would be far better to pin him up against the wall. That wouldn't affect anyone else, and it would help save space in the crowded room…

Ugh. The heat had addled her brain. She raked a hand through her hair, trying to sweep it off her neck so she could think clearly again. She glanced down at herself. What the…

The top two buttons on her blouse were both unbuttoned.

Why, that sneaky little bastard, she thought, half-outraged, half-turned on. He must have unbuttoned the second one as he brushed past her a few minutes before.

She stood there, contemplating what to do. It was cooler with the second button undone, which was not an inconsiderable factor at this point. If she left it, Jane would be unbearably smug at having gotten his way. Not a desirable outcome.

So, she should button it back up. Obviously. But should she do it now, before Jane returned? Or should she make a point of buttoning it back up while he was there, so he could see she wasn't going to be manipulated into going along with his silly nonsense?

While she was still dithering over this point, Jane reappeared in the doorway, pushing a hand truck loaded with crates of water bottles. He beckoned to Rigsby and murmured something to him. Rigsby, in turn, heaved the first crate aloft and started handing out water bottles all around. Following Rigsby's lead, several other agents picked up crates and started handing the water bottles around as well. A cheer erupted from the crowd. Several people slapped Jane on the back as he threaded his way through the crowd to rejoin Lisbon by the window.

"What did you do, break open the vending machine?" Lisbon asked as he made his way back to her side.

"Bribed the delivery guy. Here you go." He handed her an ice cold water bottle, dripping with condensation and resumed his place by the window.

"Thank you," Lisbon said gratefully, forgetting about the button for a moment. The man had brought her something cool to drink. And boosted morale for everyone in the room. She twisted the cap off and drained half the bottle in one go. She had to admit, sometimes Jane's methods of problem solving weren't half bad.

"Open your hand," Jane whispered to her.

"Why?" she whispered back. Despite her gratitude, suspicion of Jane's motives was hardwired into her at this point.

"Just give me your hand, woman," Jane growled into her ear.

Lisbon tentatively held out her hand. Jane took it in his and folded her fingers over a small, soft object, his own fingers pressing against hers just a shade too long. Lisbon looked down at their clasped hands, then twisted her wrist so she could see what he'd given her. She opened her palm and saw he'd pressed a black hair tie into her hand. She raised her face to his, eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you."

He squeezed her wrist. "You're very welcome."

"Hold this, would you?" she said, handing him her water bottle. She gathered her hair up off her neck and twisted into a sloppy bun. She secured it with the hair tie and let out a sigh of relief. She glanced down at herself again. Seriously?! Now three buttons were undone. From the angle of anyone facing her head on, her bra was still respectably covered, but looking down at herself—and from Jane's vantage point hovering at her shoulder—the edge of the pink lace was clearly visible.

Her eyes flew to Jane, who pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling, the picture of innocence.

Her eyes narrowed. He must have undone the third one when he brushed past her as he handed her the water bottle, she realized.

She snatched the offending water bottle back from him, contemplating clobbering him over the head with it.

But—she did feel much better, with her hair off her neck, the water bottle to cool her, and even, she admitted to herself grudgingly, with the three buttons unbuttoned, letting the heat from her chest escape into the sticky air around them instead of staying trapped against her skin under a layer of cloth.

Also, she rationalized, should she give Jane the satisfaction of realizing he was getting to her with whatever bizarre game he was playing here? Wouldn't it be better to ignore his interference with her wardrobe and just hold out until this damn seminar was over? Then she would have gotten what she needed out of the deal and could murder him quietly if she needed to. She should have just killed him and disposed of his body before this stupid seminar began, she thought darkly. Even Hightower wouldn't have expected Jane to show up if he was actually dead.

She should never have allowed herself to get suckered into this ridiculous deal in the first place, she thought furiously. Engaging in any kind of bargain with Patrick Jane was a deal with the devil at best.

She still hadn't gotten a straight answer out of him about why he'd asked for this particular, er, incentive, in the first place. He'd told her the answer was obvious, and implied she was just being stubborn by refusing to acknowledge it.

If he were a normal man, the obvious conclusion would be that he had a particular interest in not only the pink bra itself, but also in what was underneath it. But this was Jane they were talking about here. He didn't think of her that way. She was a convenient foil to his unorthodox methods, smoothing the waters so he could have free rein to do what he pleased in the frame of the bureaucratic machine in which they operated, nothing more.

That was unfair, she acknowledged to herself. She was his friend. She knew he cared for her. It was just the concept of him thinking of her as a flesh and blood woman behind the gun and badge that was difficult to comprehend. Of course, it wasn't like he never acknowledged her as a woman at all, she reminded herself. Jane had always been chivalrous, holding doors for her and placing his hand at the small of her back as they walked places together. He'd never treated her as one of the guys, as so many of her male colleagues did. He'd always been particularly attentive towards her. Downright protective, in fact. Usually in some way that irritated her beyond measure, but still. And he did like to tease her. Even flirt with her sometimes. Okay, she amended, a lot of the time. And he'd never exactly made it a secret that he preferred her company to that of anyone else. Which she had to admit she found flattering despite her constant rationalizations to herself that this wasn't so much an active preference on Jane's part but rather a reflection of the fact that she was possibly the only person on the planet who could tolerate his presence for any length of time without wanting to throw him off the side of a building. And even she wasn't entirely immune to that particular desire, though by some miracle she'd managed to restrain the impulse so far.

Her mind flitted to that bare ring finger again. Maybe the removal of the ring meant he really was ready to move on, she thought hopefully. But then, the question still stood—why this? Why now? Why hadn't he just talked to her? Or pinned her against the wall?

Okay, so that latter method probably wouldn't have ended well for him, she acknowledged. If she hadn't seen it coming, she might have kneed him in the groin. Admittedly, she didn't have the best track record with men, but even she recognized that such a beginning would hardly have been an auspicious start to any kind of romantic interlude.

But was that what Jane was after? Was he ready to get back in the game, so to speak, but preferred to start somewhere comfortable, somewhere familiar, before spreading his wings and flying off to some other port? She grimaced at her own mixed metaphor. That didn't sound like Jane, she decided. If anything, if he wanted to have a trial run of sorts, he was the type to find an anonymous pair of arms for the job. Lord knew he wouldn't have any trouble finding anyone willing, if he was willing to expend the slightest bit of effort. Or, you know, if he simply didn't turn down one of the numerous women who came on to him on a regular basis.

Besides, she thought, returning to the thought of Jane engineering a one night stand with her, she knew Jane wouldn't do that to her. Despite his many flaws, he would never hurt her that way. He would know they wouldn't be able to return to the status quo, not after something like that.

So what did that mean? That he wanted to start something with her? Something long term? If that was true, why the hell had he chosen this, of all things, as his method of declaration? It was hardly the most romantic thing in the world, she thought, puzzled. Jane was definitely a romantic. She would have thought—well, if he were going to declare himself, that it would be through some grand, showy gesture. Possibly with fireworks or dozens of roses. Or at least through a heartfelt conversation late at night in her office or on the doorstep of her apartment or something.

Maybe, she thought, he really was just messing with her. Her heart sank. This was a little outside his usual scope of screwing with someone, especially her, but Jane's sense of humor was often inscrutable, to say the least. Maybe he was just extra bored and he was trying out a new method of entertainment. She scowled. If that was true, he would live to regret it.

She chanced a glance at him.

Jane stood perfectly still, his mouth softly parted and breathing shallow breaths, his gaze riveted on the v of her blouse.

Lisbon, her face already flushed from the heat, turned an even darker shade of rose. She hastily raised the water bottle to her lips to cover her confusion and took a long swallow of the cool liquid.

Okay, so he wasn't messing with her.

Maybe it was time to take this battle into the enemy camp, she thought suddenly. Regardless of his motives, Jane undoubtedly expected that she would be flustered by the situation and would stay on the defensive. If she really wanted to regain the upper hand here, she should go on the offensive.

She screwed the lid back onto the water bottle and slowly, carefully, pressed the water bottle against her neck. The cool, wet bottle felt amazing on her overheated skin, and for a second, she forgot all about Jane. She tilted her head to the other side and pressed the bottle to the other side of her neck, biting her lip to suppress the sigh of pleasure threatening to escape her lips. A drop of condensation from the bottle dripped onto her chest and ran down between her breasts in a long, cool rivulet, soaking the little pink bow in the middle of the bra.

A little hiss of breath escaped Jane's lips, which parted further as he leaned forward, craning his neck to follow the course of the rivulet and observe the fate of the pink bow.

He raised his gaze to meet hers, the irises of his green-blue eyes nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils. "What are you doing to me, woman?" he half-whispered, half-groaned.

"Me?!" she hissed back. "This was your stupid idea in the first place."

"And this is your plan for revenge?" She wouldn't have thought it possible, but his eyes darkened further at that.

She shook her head, incredulous. "You're a disturbed man, you know that?"

"Okay, I admit, my plan got a little out of hand," Jane admitted in a low voice. "But I'm a man of my word—" She snorted at this. Jane ignored her and continued, "—and I'm not going to get through the rest of this training if you keep up this campaign of torture. Can we call a truce?"

"Fine," she conceded, knowing she was the one who wouldn't make it through the rest of the training if Jane kept looking at her like that. "Truce."

"Great." Jane fixed his gaze back on the v of her blouse. "Truce."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "Cut that out."

"How else am I supposed to get through the rest of this tedious blather?" Jane whispered back.

"I don't know, by actually listening?" Lisbon said, exasperated.

"That's an absurd idea," Jane said, leaning forward again to get a better look.

She smacked him on the arm. "You're violating the terms of the truce, Jane."

"Really? I thought it was a key provision."

"What if someone sees you?"

"Nobody is paying attention to us," he pointed out. "Everyone else is halfway to a coma by now. They're focused on their own survival."

Lisbon glanced around at their nearest neighbors and realized this was true. Everyone else was staring vaguely in the direction of the seminar leaders, jaws slack and eyes glazed. It was like the entirety of the CBI had responded to a casting call for extras in 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers.'

"Fine," she whispered. "But after this is over, there's going to be a reckoning, you hear me?"

"Yes, my dear," Jane said, happily resuming his observation post. "Whatever you say."

Xxx

The following hour was torture, pure and simple.

Jane was better behaved during this period than she'd ever known him to be in the entirety of their acquaintance. That was the problem. He was driving her crazy with his longing looks and meaningful glances. Not to mention all the times he 'accidentally on purpose' brushed against her the rest of the afternoon. Lisbon was starting to think the only way she was going to make it out of that room would be if someone pulled the fire alarm due to her spontaneously combusting in the corner.

The rest of the group had broken free of their torpor and had resumed their grumbling about the meeting conditions. Lisbon started to grow concerned that they might soon have a riot on their hands even without Jane filling his usual role as instigator.

They made it until half an hour before the seminar was scheduled to end. At that point, Platt keeled over, falling out of his chair and landing with a thud on the floor in the middle of the aisle between the chairs, apparently suffering from heatstroke.

The room broke out into pandemonium. The seminar leaders gaped like fish, horrified, at the body lying prone on the floor. The agents started shouting angrily at the group of managers standing near the front, gesturing wildly at their fallen comrade.

Van Pelt, who had trained as a medic before joining the CBI, was the only one who kept her head. She snapped into action. She grabbed Rigsby's jacket from the back of her chair, which he'd discarded within fifteen minutes of the beginning of the seminar, and folded it as a pillow that she used to cushion Platt's head. She ordered the agents nearest her to call the paramedics, to hand over any remaining water bottles that could be used to cool Platt down, and to fetch ice for the same purpose. She directed the fans to be placed around Platt so he could benefit from the circulation of as much as fresh air as possible, and then she ordered everyone to leave the room, as the presence of so many bodies in the small space was not conducive to cooling the place down.

The group of managers and monitors from the governor's office conducted a hurried conference, and then one of them stepped forward and announced that everyone should leave and that under the circumstances, everyone in attendance would receive full credit for completing the seminar.

The grumbling stopped then and everyone fled the scene at speed. Lisbon stopped to ask Van Pelt if there was anything she could do to help, then went downstairs to help the paramedics navigate security and find their way to the conference room. She told Cho and Rigsby to go on home as she passed them in the hall, but she lost track of Jane in the shuffle.

By the time she returned upstairs with the paramedics in tow, Platt had revived under Van Pelt's expert care and was sitting up, looking clammy but otherwise mostly looking embarrassed. The paramedics treated him but after conferring briefly with one another, determined that a trip to the hospital wasn't necessary. Van Pelt volunteered to drive him home, an offer Platt accepted gratefully. Lisbon complimented Van Pelt on her calm under pressure while the paramedics gave strict instructions to Platt. Van Pelt flushed at the praise, pleased.

"You heading home, boss?" Van Pelt asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she prepared to leave and the paramedics helped Platt to the elevator.

"In a few minutes," Lisbon said. "I've got to stop by my office first."

"'Kay," Van Pelt said, heading towards the elevator herself. "Night."

Lisbon echoed the sentiment, then turned towards her office.

She passed Jane in the kitchen on the way back to her desk, drinking a cup of tea. She flushed when she saw him, but only acknowledged him with a jerk of her head as she passed by.

Jane set his tea down and followed her into her office. "Boy, talk about a mood killer," he said, shaking his head as the door swung closed behind him. "Poor Platt."

"He'll be all right," Lisbon said.

"Good thing Van Pelt was there."

"Yeah," Lisbon agreed. "She did good."

"So." Jane inched closer to her. "Does this mean the truce is over?"

"Maybe," Lisbon said archly. "That depends."

"On what?" Jane continued his advance. "Because if it's still in place, I have a few ideas about how to violate the terms."

She placed a hand on his chest, halting his advance. "Stop right there," she ordered. "You owe me a reckoning, remember?"

"I remember," Jane said, leaning into her hand. "I'm looking forward to it."

She increased the pressure of her hand, forcing him backwards until his back crashed into her office door, rattling the blinds ominously. "Why," she said, clearly and succinctly. "Are you doing this to me?"

He watched her with hooded eyes. "Doing what, exactly?"

"This whole bit with the pink lace," Lisbon said. "Why this? Why now?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You haven't figured that out by now?"

She pressed closer to him. "Indulge me."

He swallowed hard. "I, ah, was planting a seed," he confessed.

Her brow crinkled in confusion. "Planting a seed?"

"We-ell, I haven't exactly placed myself in the ideal position to declare myself as a potential romantic partner," Jane hedged. "After we got Red John, you seemed determined to treat me the same as ever, as your crime-solving buddy and occasional nuisance."

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "Occasional?"

"I realized that regardless of the latent but obvious attraction between the two of us, you'd trained yourself to consider me as unavailable," he went on. "You trained yourself to believe that I, in turn, harbored no feelings of sexual attraction towards you. Which," he said, shaking his head, "Couldn't have been further from the truth."

"Why the hell didn't you just say something, then?" Lisbon said, exasperated.

"I thought if I just asked you on a date out of the blue, you might have me committed to a mental hospital," he admitted. "Or be so suspicious that even if I persuaded you to accept my invitation, you'd spend the entire evening looking for scary clowns preparing to jump out at you from the woodwork."

"Clowns, Jane?" she said skeptically. "Really?"

"You get my point," he said hastily. "In any case, you see my dilemma."

She let him go and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your dilemma that you created in your mind based on misguided assumptions because you were too cowardly to actually talk to me?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "That one."

"So instead, you needed to plant a seed."

"Yes, so you would start to realize the depth of my abiding passion for you. When you asked me about the seminar, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to plant that seed."

"By asking me to wear a pink lace bra?" she double checked. "That was the seed?"

"That's right."

Impossible man. "You didn't think about maybe planting a seed that was less inappropriate?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd actually agree to it. Really, Lisbon, it was very unfeminist of you to go along with the idea," he admonished her.

"Unfeminist of me?" she said, indignant.

"Yes. I'm surprised you didn't punch me in the nose, actually. Instead, all you did was throw me out on my ear. I didn't expect you to let me off so lightly."

"If you thought I was going to punch you in the nose, why did you ask for it in the first place?" Lisbon demanded.

"Because after you punched me and stormed off in righteous indignation, I knew it would drive you crazy, trying to figure out why I asked for such a thing in the first place," he explained. "You could hardly fail to come to the obvious conclusion. I mean, why else would a man ask a woman for something like that?"

"Why else, indeed," she muttered.

"So then," he continued, "you'd know that I was attracted to you, and you'd work yourself into a state, wondering why I asked for that, of all things, and if I was ever going to follow it up with another, perhaps more romantic request. And then, when you were nice and riled up over the whole thing, then I could make my move and it wouldn't be such a surprise to you. In fact, you'd pretty much be expecting it."

"This is your reasoning?" Lisbon said incredulously. "This is what makes sense inside your twisted mind?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? It was far more effective than I thought it would be, actually. I didn't anticipate the seed transforming into a rainforest quite so quickly," he said, shaking his head.

She smacked him on the chest. "You're an idiot."

"Hey," he said, wounded. "I'll have you know a lot of careful planning went into the nurturing of that little seed. I deserve a little credit for that, don't you think?"

"Credit for what?" she said suspiciously. "Making inappropriate demands?"

He cleared his throat. "Let's just call it—promoting the conditions that would allow the seed to flourish."

"Promoting the conditions—" she stopped as realization struck her. "Oh, God. The air conditioner. You somehow managed to break the air conditioner."

"It wasn't easy, let me tell you," Jane said with a shake of his head. "I haven't had to implement a plan so finely tuned and nuanced in—" he stopped. "Well, possibly ever," he said, sounding bemused. "But you gave me no choice."

"I gave you no choice?" she said, incredulous. "You gave Platt heatstroke!"

"I do feel a little bad about that," Jane acknowledged. "But it was a necessary evil. It was obvious what you were planning to do. You gave in entirely too easily. I had to implement certain countermeasures."

"Countermeasures, plural?" she repeated.

"Well, first I had to delay you from getting to the conference room too early," he explained. "I needed you to be in a very specific spot for the plan to work properly, and if you'd gotten a seat towards the front of the room, it might have ruined everything."

"You broke the blinds," she realized with dawning understanding. "You went in there last night and sabotaged the whole damn room."

"Yes," he agreed.

Her eyes narrowed. "And you stole my lunch so I'd be forced to go out to get something to eat, and would therefore be delayed getting back in by the logjam you engineered at security." She looked at him, exasperated. "Did you spill coffee on Rigsby's forms, too?"

"Is it my fault Rigsby is so clumsy?" he said with an exaggerated air of innocence.

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Wow, you really covered all your bases, didn't you?"

He inched forward, putting his hands on her waist. "I'm actually interested in exploring a few more bases, actually."

She rolled her eyes. "And now you're coming at me with cheesy lines. I swear to God, Jane, if I hear a single word from you about home plate, I'll kick your ass." But she didn't move away.

Jane moved closer. "If I promise to leave the baseball metaphors to you, will you let me kiss you now?"

Her breath hitched in her throat and her pulse skyrocketed to the stratosphere. "Name one good reason why I should let you kiss me instead of kicking your ass for coming up with this whole convoluted scheme in the first place," she challenged him, trying without success to get her galloping heart back under control.

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "There is the fact that I'm madly in love with you. That's a good reason, isn't it?"

It was possible her heart was going to gallop right out of her chest at this point. "I suppose that's acceptable," she managed. "As long as you don't do anything like this again."

"No promises," he said, and kissed her.

"You're not going to get away with this," she said weakly when they finally broke apart several moments later. Her position was not strengthened by the fact that she had him pressed up against the blinds again. Or the fact that she'd been clutching the lapels of his jacket with unseemly desperation in order to keep him close. She shifted her grip on his lapels, forcing a note of her usual sternness back into her voice. "You're going to pay for making me spend the whole afternoon in that miserably hot room with a hundred other people in it. And," she added, "you're going to make it up to Platt, too."

Jane considered for a moment, his eyes on her mouth. "I'll get Platt tickets to Discovery Kingdom for him and his family," he said finally. "He'll be happy with that—his daughters will be excited about the dolphin show. They can go on a cool day. Is that satisfactory recompense for giving him heatstroke, in your opinion?"

"That's fine," Lisbon conceded, inwardly wondering at the weights and measures used in Jane's mind when he felt he needed to balance the scale of justice.

"As for the rest…" He traced a finger down the side of her neck. "I'm entirely at your disposal."

Lisbon, who was feeling overheated again, had only one thing on her mind at this point. "I want ice cream," she announced. "And you don't get to have any."

"Fair enough," Jane said quickly. He kissed her again, then opened the door and gestured for her to precede him out of it. "After you, my dear."

Xxx

Three hours later, Lisbon sat perched on Jane's lap in nothing but his shirt and a pair of underwear, finishing off the last of the maple toffee ice cream. "Mm," she hummed in satisfaction. "This is really good." One of Jane's few points of reliability was that he could always be counted upon to find good ice cream.

"Are you really not going to let me have any of that?" Jane said plaintively, looking up from his half-reclined position against the headboard with half-lidded eyes.

She licked the spoon and gave a little wiggle of pleasure. "Nope."

"At least stop wriggling around like that," he said, his gaze darkening. "You're compounding the torture."

"Serves you right," she said, unrepentant. "Besides, I didn't hear you complaining about that twenty minutes ago."

"No," he agreed. "It was more like begging for mercy."

"Wimp," she said, taking the last bite of the ice cream and leaning over him to set the empty container on the bedside table.

He leaned up and captured her mouth for another kiss, stealing the last taste of ice cream from her lips.

"Thief," she sighed, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him back.

"You know," he said, toying with the button on the shirt she was wearing. "I'm really looking forward to next year's rules of evidence seminar. The experience was far more scintillating than I anticipated."

"Well, I'm not resorting to bribery again," she said firmly. "That was a one-time deal only."

"I was thinking more along the lines of me bribing you," Jane said, flicking open the button holding the shirt closed across her breasts. "I'm sure I could rustle up a pair of pink boxers, if I put my mind to it." He moved on to the next button. "Or," he said, popping open the last button and lowering his mouth to her breast. "I'm sure we could come up with some other mutually agreeable arrangement."

Lisbon's breath came a little faster. "I might be prepared to consider your terms," she said archly, winding her fingers through his curls so she could hold him closer. "But I warn you—I'm going to drive a hard bargain."

He smiled into her chest. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Five minutes later, a pink paper frog fell from the night stand onto the floor, unnoticed by either of the bed's occupants.