AN: Second Mentalist fic, first one to actually include dialogue. I was worried that this might be out of character because I really try hard to avoid writing characters OOC - it's one of those things that annoys me when I write something - but hopefully I've managed to keep it in character. Here's fingers crossed. Well, on with the story...

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She lets out a gasp as her back hits the wall.

She isn't sure how they ended up here, with her hands raking through his blonde curls or his lips urgent against her neck but somehow they have and she finds she has no pressing need to make this stop. And even if she could find the will to, they've gone too far at this point to return to how things were beforehand with fleeting glances and murky feelings as they stood between the lines of friendship and more.

She notices he wears too many layers and her hands urgently open buttons, her nimble fingers making quick work of them. He's already pushed her jacket off her shoulders and to the floor while she's just undone the first sets of buttons.

He's as infuriating as ever; he's had much practise in teasing and taunting and with his open air of confidence, it comes to no surprise to her that he's like that in the bedroom too. To be fair, she's not surprised by any of it in any way at this point. She hadn't expected it to be any different, for him to be any different.

"Lisbon?" His voice asks dreamily as his lips make patterns in the hollows of her neck.

"What?" she murmurs dazed as he presses gently at her pulse point.

"Lisbon." She feels herself shaking, but that's odd, it's more like someone is shaking her, "Hey Lisbon, wake up."

Her eyes open slowly and she finds herself staring into the eyes of her consultant. Her back straightens instantly as she realises she's fallen asleep at her desk. Again. And to make things worse, she's had an almost sex dream involving Jane. Again.

She blinks groggily, trying to assert her eyes to the light that's streaming in from her windows. The blinds do nothing to stop the rays in their path.

She rubs a hand over her eyes. God, I'm tired. I could do with a cup of coffee.

As if by magic, Jane has thrust a glorious coffee cup in front of her, waving it slightly under her nose. Did I say that out loud? She wonders as she takes the coffee in her hand, smelling the gorgeous scent of it.

"Now Lisbon, I'm all about sleeping on the job but you need your beauty sleep and desks don't provide the best in beautifying techniques in my experience. You do want your beauty sleep, now don't you?"

She sips at her coffee, before replying, "What I want is some peace and quiet."

"Exactly." He beams, in that Jane like way he always seems to beam.

"Well I am glad we're on the same page, there's the door Jane. I suggest you use it." She motions her free hand to the door, her other one still clutching at the coffee cup as if it's the only reason for living.

"I would but if you fall asleep again, I won't get to watch you sleep." He grins, the whites of his teeth showing, "You know your face does the cutest thing when you moan 'Oh Patrick'."

Her face burns red, the coffee in her hand slips and now she's in the delightful situation with its contents almost burning her too. Luckily, she manages to grab the fallen cup before all of its contents spill over her.

Placing the cup back on the desk, she takes a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to get her gun and shoot her blonde consultant in the head. It's a very tempting option at the moment and with his smug smile, he's making it one option very hard to resist. Instead she narrows her eyes, points to the door and manages through clenched teeth to tell him to "Get out of my office before I shoot you Jane."

Ignoring her request, no, her order, he takes a step forward, "Now Lisbon, there's no need for violence but I'm curious, was I tied to the bed?" Another step, "Did you use handcuffs on me?"

Her face beams red again and she splutters to make a dignified sentence as she's crossed between anger and embarrassment. There's no way he'd seen her sleeping before, at least not when she last dreamt of him. And there's no way she'd have mumbled that little tidbit out even if she had dreamt it in the office.

"Interesting…" he muses in response to her silence, as he leans against the nearby desk.

She regains her composure in a matter of seconds, "Jane, I swear to God if you aren't out of my office in 5 seconds then-"

He straightens up suddenly, and with a cheery, "Well, I'll be off then," he disappears out of her office, then pauses and comes back in, making sure to ask, "Were you the one in handcuffs?"

"OUT!" she screams at him, and she knows that pretty much everyone in the floor has probably heard her – but it's usual practise for her to shout at Jane for something so she's not overly worried about that, more so what he'll tell the rest of the team. And she hadn't even been dreaming about the handcuffs this time.

Jane flashes her a knowing grin before he turns on his heel, heading straight for his favourite chair.

"What was that all about?" She can hear Van Pelt ask. And she waits on baited breath for him to humiliate her. He is Patrick Jane, after all.

"Oh just coffee and bondage." He replies, not missing a beat as he plops down on his couch and closes his eyes, leaving three stunned agents confused once again by one of his statements, although Cho was the only one whose face didn't reveal that fact.

One day, Lisbon muses, as she runs a hand through her hair, I really will kill that man.

The End

AN: Well, review if you enjoyed...