A/N: Wow! I am overwhelmed by the warm welcome I received on this site for my episode tag, "Red Hot." You are all too kind! Thanks to all who reviewed/favorited/alerted. Your encouragement has led me to this story. My first chapter isn't as long as I usually like to write. I'd like your input before I proceed. I'm having a lot of fun writing for this new fandom—hope you have fun reading. ;)

Chapter 1

Teresa Lisbon looked out of her office window and sighed. It's wasn't as if she had any actual plans today, but she would much rather be at home watching A Christmas Story marathon and popping in a turkey TV dinner, then, maybe watching some football later. Instead, she allowed her team to take the day off to be with their families, knowing that it would be unlikely that anything major would happen on Thanksgiving anyway. Besides, she knew their numbers if need be; no sense that they should spoil their plans waiting at the office by the phone.

But now, having been working three hours on the never-ending paperwork required by the State of California, she wished for the millionth time that she was on speaking terms with her brothers so that she could have an excuse to take this day off, for once. But those personal musings didn't belong in the office, and she just needed to toughen up and quit feeling sorry for herself. At least she wasn't completely alone, however.

Patrick Jane apparently hadn't had plans either, and she was touched by his immediate acceptance when Hightower had asked for volunteers to stay here with her. If there was anyone else more pathetically alone on the holidays, it was Jane. Still, she was glad for his company, such as it was. With no one to analyze or annoy, he had crawled onto her couch about an hour before, lying prone in his trademark semi-sleeping state.

She looked fondly at the head of blond curls on the armrest of her office couch. An empty tea cup sat on the lamp table beside him. He looked so handsome and somehow innocent in sleep, those long eyelashes of his resting just above his cheeks. It was the only time she ever saw him completely at peace, and she felt a little flush of warmth that he could find it lying on her couch. But she couldn't afford to think of him in that way, given his complicated past, not to mention the mess with Van Pelt and Rigsby's romantic relationship last year. She'd seen what breaking the rules could do to one's career, and she wasn't about to make that same mistake herself. She sighed again at the twinge of loss that brought her.

"Your heartfelt sighs are disturbing my sleep, Lisbon," said Jane, eyes still closed. She had jumped a little, even though she knew he slept like a cat, with the uncanny ability to become instantly alert.

She grinned because he couldn't see, and tried to keep the smile out of her voice. "Go sleep on your couch then. Some of us are actually working here."

Letting all pretense of sleeping fall away, Jane sat up with a grin, planting his scuffed brown shoes on the floor in front of him.

"Hunger makes you cranky. Let's go early to that buffet down the street. Turkey and all the trimmings. That'll cheer you up."

She was a little hungry. Jane, she knew, was always hungry. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was a little after eleven, and maybe an early lunch could be justified, given the fact that there'd likely be a line at one of the few restaurants in this part of town that was open today. She gave him another heartfelt sigh that was strictly for his benefit, got up, and grabbed the jacket off the back of her chair. His eyes lit up in joyous anticipation as he went to hold the door open for her.

She'd just grabbed her car keys when the phone rang.

"Don't answer it," said Jane, as if knowing that whoever was on the other end stood between him and pumpkin pie.

She gave him a smirk. "This is why we're here today, remember?" She picked up the phone. "Lisbon."

"Agent Lisbon, this is Brock Martin, Solano County Sherriff's Department. I hate to bother you on Thanksgiving, but we have a Fish and Game warden here, found dead of a gunshot wound. Fish and Game makes it clearly your jurisdiction."

Lisbon sighed for real. "Okay. Where are you exactly?"

"You know Grizzly Island, south of Fairfield?"

"Yeah."

She watched in slight amusement as Jane's face visibly fell from happy to sullen as his fears had been realized. Martin gave her directions that she jotted down carefully on a notepad.

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Sorry again, Agent."

"Well, murder dosen't take a holiday." She gave Jane a dirty look for his eye rolling. Okay, it sounded hokier coming out than it had in her mind.

"I told you not to answer it," said Jane when she hung up. He went back to her couch in defeat.

"Stop pouting. Feel sorry for me. Now I have to call Hightower."

She punched in the CBI director's home number. Lisbon cringed at the background noises of children, laughter, and conversation as a man—Hightower's husband—answered the phone.

"This is Teresa Lisbon with the CBI. Sorry to do this, but I need to speak with Agent Hightower please."

The man laughed. "I knew it was too good to be true. Just a minute…"

"Lisbon? What's up?"

"Ma'am, there's been a murder over on Grizzly Island. Fish and Game warden. The sheriff who called didn't sound very urgent. I really think Jane and I can handle this. We'll call for backup if the locals aren't enough."

Heartfelt sighs were apparently catching. "Is that what your gut feeling is? You're not just playing martyr here, are you? We're CBI. Thanksgiving murders are par for the course."

"No, ma'am. I mean, I know when to call for help. Just letting you know what was going on."

"Okay, but keep me updated. Don't be afraid you're interrupting. Given all the kids driving me nuts around here, I may need a break later."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Boss. And, I am sorry we had to bother you."

"That's why I'm here, Lisbon."

Lisbon hung up and met Jane's eyes. He was shaking his head at her. He hated to see her kowtow to their boss. She hated it too, but the other woman made her nervous as hell.

"Oh, shut up. Let's get this over with." She opened her office door herself, letting it close behind her before Jane had even risen to his feet.

Half an hour later, they were midway to Fairfield when Lisbon realized the company SUV needed gas. They pulled into a 7-Eleven, and in typical fashion, Jane ran inside the convenience store while Lisbon gassed up the car. He returned with a small paper sack and two insulated cups.

"What's in there?"she asked, buckling up.

"Lunch. Turkey sandwiches."

"That's just cruel." She watched him pull out two small, pre-packaged deli meat subs, along with a bag of potato chips.

"See, turkey and potatoes," he said ironically. "Just imagine you never answered that phone and this is our Thanksgiving feast." He unwrapped a sandwich and took a big bite, continuing with his mouth full: "Behold, the power of suggestion." He closed his eyes, feigning rapture at the turkey that no doubt tasted of cellophane. "I can feel the tryptophan already bombarding my system."

"Give me the damn sandwich, Jane, and quit making me feel worse. You didn't have to volunteer to work today. As I recall, the rest of the team each invited you to their homes. You could be breaking the wishbone with Rigsby about now."

After she merged back onto the freeway, Jane unwrapped the top half of her sub and put it into her hand. The coffee he'd bought drifted tantalizingly from the console cup holder.

"You wound me, Lisbon. Didn't you want me here?"

She took a moment to actually think about that question. On one hand, being in the office alone on Thanksgiving held absolutely no appeal, and worse—Hightower might have stayed herself if no one else had volunteered. On the other hand, Jane was amusing and usually challenging company. She also cared about him more than she should, and didn't want him by himself somewhere on a holiday, so, in the end, her answer was:

"Of course I wanted you here. The others would just be sulking and whining the whole time."

"Awww," he said, believing he understood her completely now. It was an annoying habit of his. "You pity me. You think I'd be all by myself, maybe crying in my tea, contemplating doing myself bodily harm."

"No—" she protested, even though he'd nailed her thoughts exactly.

"Yes. It's true, and you know it. Let me reassure you, Lisbon, if I had wanted to kill myself, it would have happened long before now, and not over spending Thanksgiving alone."

His words, though terrible to contemplate, were somehow a comfort to her, and she didn't want to admit to herself that the idea of him committing suicide made her heart drop into her stomach. But she didn't think she'd ever stop worrying about him, and though he'd once referred to her as damaged, her problems with raising her little brothers and burying an alcoholic father didn't hold a candle to having a serial killer butcher his family.

"I'm sorry, Jane. I do try not to handle you with kid gloves. But you know as well as I the statistics regarding depression and the holidays…"

"I'm not depressed. Well, not any more than usual." He gave her his most charming smile to prove it.

"So," she ventured, slightly changing the subject, and finding once again that she wasn't totally immune to that devastating smile of his. "What would you be doing today if you weren't coming with me to investigate a murder?"

"Well, I did have a date with some barbiturates and a noose…"

"Not funny." But she laughed because he did. "No, really. What?"

"Well, I just bought a book of the complete stories of Sherlock Holmes, and I would have read that and popped a turkey pot pie into the microwave for dinner. Then, I would have tuned in to A Christmas Story marathon on channel five."

His day alone sounded much like hers might have been. "I love that movie," she said, smiling a little that they had that in common.

"Then," he continued, "I likely would have snuck back to the office and fallen asleep on my couch, waiting for you to sneak in too."

He shot her a knowing look, and she couldn't deny how predictable she was. He grinned when she didn't contradict him. He loved being right.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they finished their sandwiches and chips. Lisbon sipped her coffee and then watched in fascination as Jane removed a tea bag from his wallet and dunked it into the hot water he'd bought for himself.

"Most men carry condoms in their wallets," she couldn't resist teasing.

He laughed rather nervously, and she was shocked beyond belief when she saw Patrick Jane blushing. He swallowed and tried for nonchalance.

"Well, it's hard to prepare tea exactly like I like it at a convenience store, so at least I could bring my favorite tea bag with me."

"Uh-huh." She took pity on him and didn't tease him further, but the image of him flushing with embarrassment kept a small smile on her face the rest of the drive.

TBC

A/N: Well, what do you think? Next chapter will be more from Jane's point of view. Can't wait to try my hand at that. And please, if you decide to review, log in so I can respond to you. I love to say thank you.