Jane opens his mouth, and come along, dear falls out before he even has time to think about it. Lisbon stares at him, her lips pressed into a thin line, and Jane desperately tries to look as though he meant to say that to her. As though he uses the endearment all the time and it's nothing new or shocking.

"Right after you, darling," Rigsby says with a lopsided grin as he steps out from behind Lisbon. He laughs, and then Lisbon rolls her eyes, and Jane remembers how to breathe, because everything's normal again.

Relatively speaking.

(Because normal for them is murder and stakeouts and suspects, and there's currently a corpse at their feet staring up at them with vacant blue eyes as though they all are something interesting.)

XXX

Lisbon sits in the car and stares out her window uncomfortably. She can feel Jane's eyes on the back of her head.

"Are we going to get out, Lisbon?" His voice is soft, and Lisbon wonders if he already knows that cases like this one manage to push her over the edge. She just has too much trouble tamping down her anger when it's obvious that the victim came from an abusive home, and she's sure Jane can sense that.

(The one thing she dislikes about being a cop is that she sees the worst side of humanity. Sure, there are a few bright spots, but the memories that stick out the most are almost always the dark moments, the stains, the rips and tears in the fabric of human nature.

Sometimes Lisbon's amazed that she's able to keep herself from falling apart by the end of the day.

She thinks Jane probably feels the same way too.)

"Teresa," he says, and his use of her first name helps drag her attention from the window. "It's going to be OK. I'll be right there with you."

She gives him a wry look. "Nothing could possibly go wrong then."

"I'm glad you agree," he says, and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. Lisbon huffs at him, and pushes the car door open, stepping out onto the driveway. Then she swivels back around to face him, the gravel crunching beneath her feet and a crease forming between her eyebrows.

"Jane, where's my gun?"

"I took it from you," he says casually.

"Why?"

Jane smiles at her. "We wouldn't want you being too hasty in there now, would we, Lisbon? You have a record to upkeep."

"Jane," she says, and her voice sounds tired, "where's my gun?"

"Read my mind."

Lisbon slams the car door shut and marches up to the house, not bothering to make sure Jane follows her.

He does though, as always.

XXX

Jane stands in the middle of the meat freezer, and stares at the body hanging on the wall in front of him. "Lisbon, I think he might have something in his hand."

Lisbon rubs her fingers together and blows on them, frowning at the back of his head. "Jane."

He ignores her and continues. "You might want to have someone thaw him out so we can find out what it is, unless you'd like to just break his fingers. I bet he's frozen enough that we could do that..." Jane trails off, but then makes a face. "By 'we', Lisbon, I, of course mean 'you', because I'm really not in the mood to be touching a dead person today."

"Jane," she says sharply, nudging him with her shoulder. He turns and looks at her, his breath forming a misty cloud in front of his face.

"What?"

"It's cold. Let's go."

He grins at her, and Lisbon wonders (not for the first time) how she really puts up with him. "But Lisbon, it's my first literal cold case. I can't possibly be expected not to savor this moment."

Lisbon's mouth falls open just a touch. "Jane, this is a crime scene."

He glances over his shoulder at the frozen, gaping mouth of the corpse. "He doesn't mind."

Lisbon turns on her heel then, and walks out of the freezer, leaving Jane shivering and theorizing by himself.

Later, he buys her a cup of hot chocolate and some gloves. (It's his way of saying I'm sorry for being a callous ass and making you stand in a freezer with me while I stare at a dead body.)