AN: I woke up in the middle of the night with a tag idea. I promptly forgot it this morning. So here's what I came up with instead.

Oh. I feel the need to point out that I think something very bad is going to happen to Jane and Lisbon later in the season. Why is this? Foreshadowing. We all know that everything that happens in TM is deliberate. In Devil's Cherry, the coroner tells Jane to be careful, that he's almost stepping in blood. In Panama Red, it was Cho telling Lisbon to watch out for the blood on the ground. I think they even use the same camera angles to show their feet.

So not an accident or a coincidence.

We have an awful lot of time to kill before the next episode. I need things to write...

Plots and Puzzles

Jane followed her to the elevator, still shaking his head. "Do you hate having fun?" he demanded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

She made a face at him. "How did you manage to steal my keys? I've been in my office all afternoon."

He smirked. "So have I."

That was true. Since they'd gotten back from the hotel, he'd basically lounged on her couch, occasionally chuckling quietly about Rigsby's performance. Ah, that was something to remember. Maybe he could bring it up at the Christmas party. Assuming they had one.

"Jane, not even you are talented enough to steal a set of keys without making some kind of noise. Besides, you didn't leave the couch until an hour ago." She pushed open the door to the stairwell, then turned to face him.

"Your lack of confidence in my skills is disheartening, Lisbon." He pretended to be hurt, but she was right. Which was why he'd taken her keys as soon as they'd gotten back from the hotel, when she was busy charging murderers.

"Fine," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "I don't even care." She stepped into the stairwell. "I'll see you in the morning." There was a pause. "And clean up the mess in my office."

"Ah, the mess that you made when you smashed a wooden box with a hammer? The hammer that you still haven't given me an explanation for?" He raised his eyebrow.

Her angry little smile was back. "I told you, Jane. You only think you know everything about me."

"I know the things that matter, Lisbon." He held her eyes for a moment. "Have a good night."

And then she was gone, heels clicking on the cement stairs. He stared at her retreating back for a moment, then returned to her office.

On a whim, he pulled open her desk drawer. Naturally, he'd rifled through her things more than once, but not recently.

Really, what the hell was she doing with a hammer? Was she just keeping it in her desk in case she felt the need to hit him with it? Her office walls were brick and glass, so it wasn't like she could use it to drive nails into them.

He sat down in her chair and began sifting through drawer. The hammer was the only anomaly. Everything else was what he expected, what he remembered. Aspirin, lip balm, extra hair elastics. A package of her favorite pens.

And a hammer.

He frowned. Maybe she just put random objects in her desk to confuse him. She certainly knew he wasn't above going through her stuff.

The office door opened. He looked up to find Cho staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"Do you know why Lisbon has a hammer in her desk?" Jane asked.

Cho ignored him. "Is the boss gone for the day?"

"Yeah," Jane told the other man. "She just left. Did we catch another case?"

"No," Cho said. "I was just going to give her a heads up about something. It'll wait until tomorrow, though."

Carefully, Jane studied the other man's face. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"It's fine. I'm going home." Cho paused. "And stop going through Lisbon's desk."

Jane waved him off. "Oh, like she doesn't know I do that already? She doesn't even bother to lock her office half the time anymore."

Cho didn't bother to reply, merely rolling his eyes and walking away.

Mildly frustrated, he pulled out his cell phone and typed a quick message to Lisbon.

Hammer. Explanation. Please.

Waiting for her to reply, he swept the shards of what used to be a functioning puzzle box into the trash can beside her desk. Then he had a sudden idea.

Smirking, he turned on her computer and logged in using Lisbon's information. He had his own, he was fairly certain, but Lisbon had more access privileges than he did, so, in the rare circumstance that he need a computer, he simply used her identification.

He brought up an internet browser, typed a few words into the search bar, then studiously studied the information that was returned. Satisfied, he jotted down an address onto a sticky-note before shutting the whole thing down again.

His phone vibrated.

It's good for you to wonder.

Oh, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. It was actually bad, at least for her, because now he was ridiculously curious. And he needed to find a way to get her back for ruining his game earlier.

All he had been trying to do was coax a smile out of her. They had been rare lately, at least where he was concerned, and it bothered him.

So he had intended to force her into having a little fun. She wouldn't think of the magnets, he knew that, so she'd end up having to ask him to open the thing. At which point he would have teased her and flirted until she couldn't hide her smile any longer.

If she had been in a particularly good mood, he probably would have asked her if she wanted to grab dinner.

But things hadn't quite worked out like that.

He opened his phone again, texting as he walked out the door, heading for his car. You'll regret that, woman.

Twenty blocks later, he was forced to admit that she wasn't going to respond. Disappointed, he shoved the phone back in his pocket, and tugged out the scrap of paper his destination was written on.

He made two wrong turns, but wound up where he intended to go. The building was old, gently shabby, and looked exactly how he imagined it would. Ten minutes later, he was back in his car, smiling again.

Since he was already close by, he went to his hotel. It was significantly less nice than the one he had been in earlier in the day.

That had been one of his better ideas recently. They had busted not one, but two criminals, Rigsby got outrageously baked, and he'd gotten to spend a few hours alone with Lisbon.

Who was still mad at him.

He was beginning to think it was a perpetual thing. Oh, they had their moments when they were alright again, but generally, her attitude towards him ranged from mildly annoyed to flat-out enraged.

Although she had almost smiled at him when he'd tugged on her ponytail during the quick lunch they'd shared in the hotel room. He hadn't been able to help himself; she looked about seventeen and he found it irresistible.

His lips turned up at the memory.

He did wish she would have sat next to him as he directed Rigsby, but then again, she'd leaned across him several times, which might have been even better. He could smell her perfume, feel her body heat.

It was distracting and wonderful.

One of these days, he thought. One of these days.

He drifted off to an infomercial for a new wonder-tool, which was appropriate given his current obsession with a hammer.

His dreams were less than peaceful, but that was nothing new. Like usual, he woke up well before dawn, dressed, and was at work before anyone else.

Today, that suited his purposes just fine.

He was waiting rather impatiently when Lisbon entered her office.

"Good morning," he sang out cheerfully.

"Hey," she said, clearly suspicious. She tossed her briefcase on the small table, then turned to her desk.

He waited for her to notice what he'd done.

"Jane."

"Yes?" he drawled, trying and failing to look innocent.

"What the hell is this?" She was gesturing to the second puzzle box he had left on her desk, this one significantly larger than the first.

"What does it look like?" he asked.

"It looks like you want me to bash you with a hammer."

He laughed. "The question is, Lisbon, what did I put in the puzzle box?"

Her eyes narrowed as she thought. He could almost see her mental checklist. She had her phone, her keys, her gun. Carefully, she picked up the box and shook it. It made a loud thudding noise, and she frowned.

She gave up after a moment, shrugging, and reaching into her desk drawer with what looked a bit like vindictive pleasure.

His grin broadened when she withdrew her empty hand.

"You son of a bitch," she said slowly, though there wasn't any real anger in her tone. "Is my hammer in that stupid box?"

"You'll have to get it open to see," he said from his spot on the couch, negligently crossing his legs.

"Jane," and there was a warning in her voice. "Open the damn box."

He stood, sauntering over to her. "Now that's not very pleasant," he chided. "You could at least say please."

The look on her face told him that she would rather go without coffee than be civil to him.

"You know I won't hesitate to punch you, right?" she asked.

"I remember," he assured her, gingerly touching his nose. "What if I make you a deal?"

She crossed her arms. "What sort of deal?"

"If you can't get the box open by noon, I'll do it for you." He paused, studying her face. Clearly, she was waiting for his conditions. "But you have to have lunch with me, and you have to act like you're enjoying it."

It took her longer than he would have liked to agree to his terms, but she did in the end.

Satisfied, he left her to her own devices, taking his usual spot in the bullpen. There wasn't much for him to do, so he lounged on the couch, angling himself so that he was able to see into Lisbon's office.

She made several attempts at opening the box before roughly shoving it aside and pulling a stack of forms determinedly towards her.

He smiled to himself.

That was one of the wonderful things about Lisbon; she was very straightforward. Well, for the most part. He was still a little concerned about her comment from last night: you only think you know everything about me.

He was confident he was correct in his reply - he did know the important things about her, who she was, what her beliefs were. How she felt about him.

At least, he hoped he knew.

Around eleven, he noticed she was running her fingers over the box again, searching for the mechanism that would allow the lid to spring open.

All at once, she jerked her hands back as the top of the container almost fell apart.

He felt a keen sense of disappointment. There went his plans.

Shifting himself, he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. He would stay down here a little longer, then hole up in the attic again.

Before long, however, he heard Lisbon's heels clicking on the floorboards.

"Jane," she said, and he forced his eyes open.

"Lisbon," he replied. "To what do I owe the honor?"

She took a deep breath, a tell that she was about to lie to him. "I can't get your stupid box open." To her credit, she injected a credible amount of annoyance into her statement. "So let's go get lunch. I'll even act like I'm having a good time. But then you have to promise to open it."

With some difficulty, he hid his smile. "I will," he told her. He swung himself up, grabbed his jacket. "Where do you want to go?"

She shrugged. "Wherever."

As she led the way out of the office, he grinned broadly at her back.

"Tell me why you have a hammer," he said again, as they made their way down the hall.

"Not a chance," she replied.

"Ah, well, worth a try," he mused, sighing dramatically.

She smiled at him. Really and fully, and he suddenly discovered he didn't care about the hammer anymore.

He returned the smile, one hand on her back. They would be alright, he thought.

They just needed some more time. And puzzle boxes.