A/N: So yes, another AU fic to pass yet another hiatus. This fic is partly inspired by the films "Never Been Kissed" and "21 Jump Street," but I've only taken their basic premise, so everything else is mostly my idea. In order for it to be more believable that Lisbon could go undercover as a teenager, I've set it back in 1996. Here you will find a young Lisbon a bit less sure of herself, and a Jane who, while in different surroundings, I think might have missed his true calling in the show we watch today. I'll introduce a few old characters along the way, and hopefully you'll forget we still have a couple of weeks until the next new episode.

The Three R's

San Francisco, 1996

"Have a seat, Officer Lisbon," said her supervisor, Captain Sam Bosco.

Teresa Lisbon, despite the nerves she was feeling inside, moved from her stance of attention to sit, back straight, in the chair across from his desk. She folded her hands in her lap like her mother and the nuns had taught her, her regulation black shoes together, her navy blue San Francisco Police Department uniform crisp and neat. Her dark hair hung in a short bob, just above the collar of her shirt.

Bosco noticed her serious carriage and smiled in hopes of easing her nerves.

"You're not in trouble, Lisbon. Relax."

"Yes, sir," she said, giving him a quick glimpse of a dimple, but not actually relaxing, he could tell.

"I'm curious, Lisbon. Where do you see yourself in say, ten years?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Well, sir, I'd like to be where you're sitting."

He smiled. "Good answer—one I hoped to hear." He sat back in his chair, regarding her thoughtfully.

"You've been out of the Academy for what—two years?" He glanced down at a file on his desk, and she could just make out her last name on the label.

"Yes, sir."

"I've asked around about you, Lisbon. Heard some promising things. Very promising. You've handled yourself well, with the recent rash of drug-related murders plaguing our city. Been in on some of the arrests too. Sergeant Cluny gives you high marks. "

"That's good to hear, sir. Thank you, sir."

"I have a job for you, but it will require you to step out of your comfort zone a bit. And I hope you won't be offended when I tell you that while you have shown yourself to be a capable officer, it's your youthful appearance that has clinched this assignment for you."

"Sir?" she said, confused.

"Tell me, Lisbon, what did you think of high school?"

She was startled by the question, but tried not to show it.

Against her will, flashes of the Catholic girls' school she'd attended flashed through her mind. She hadn't been exactly popular—a band geek, because she loved jazz; track because she'd hated playing with the catty girls on the basketball team. Her father had been an alcoholic, so she hadn't been much into the party scene. Besides, looking out for her younger brothers and keeping them out of trouble didn't leave much time for her to get into her own. When her father had killed himself two days after her eighteenth birthday, the rest of her senior year had been pretty much a painful blur. She'd become even more of a loaner, and when she'd become legal guardian of her brothers, any spare time had gone to working two part-time jobs to support them.

"It was fine, sir," she replied, pushing those unpleasant memories aside.

He looked skeptical, having read her personal history, but he didn't question her understatement.

"Good, because you, Officer Lisbon are getting the chance many dream of but few ever get. You're going back to high school."

She couldn't hide the brief glint of panic in her eyes, but Bosco noted how quickly she suppressed it. He admired her stoicism. While he'd give anything to go back to his glory days on the high school football field, not to mention the willing cheerleaders—somehow he didn't think Lisbon was anxious to relive her own experience. But there was nothing for it. Before she could fully react, however, Bosco's tone grew serious.

"Two kids from Bay Vista Academy have died within the last two weeks smoking ice."

"Crystal meth," Lisbon said, nodding.

"Yes. This isn't the run-of-the-mill stuff you can get on the streets though. It's a highly addictive, powerful concoction—worst we've seen. We need to find out who's making it, and who's selling it to the kids. We've had no luck with undercover cops in the area. No one's talking—they smell the cops a mile away. We need someone to go deeper, get to the kids in the know. Only way that can happen is for another kid they deem trustworthy gets welcomed into the fold. And SFPD certainly doesn't want the liability of using a real nark kid on this."

"And you want me to pass myself off as a meth user? To high school kids?"

He smirked a little. "You don't think you can do it?"

"No—I mean, yes, sir. Well, to be honest, Captain, I wasn't exactly part of the in crowd in high school. I was actually sort of a…nerd."

Bosco smiled. "Perfect. We didn't release this to the press, but turns out the two kids who died had been first-time drug users. Never partied before, according to their peers. They were desperate kids who just wanted to fit in, to be popular. So, sounds like you might fit the bill, if you think you can handle the emotional beating of going back in time, that is."

This could jumpstart her career in a big way, Lisbon realized. Infiltrate a population, collect information, break up a drug ring. But best of all, maybe she could prevent another kid from dying.

"I can handle it, sir," she said, jumping in with both feet.

"From all accounts, I believe you can. But you won't be completely alone in this. You'll have backup."

He was looking past her to his glass door, and he motioned for someone to come in.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" said Officer Kimball Cho.

He walked inside and stood next to the chair by Lisbon. She looked over at him in surprise. She'd only spoken to the man in passing, and his demeanor was cold, unreadable, though he'd been polite enough. He was a man of few words. Very few words. She knew he was just out of the Police Academy, two years behind her in her career. Now he was to be her partner.

"Yes, Cho, sit down."

He sat on the edge of the seat, then nodded briefly to Lisbon.

"Cho here will be the school's new security officer. You get into a jam, he'll come running, with the added bonus of being able to carry a gun."

Bosco had obviously already filled Cho in. Lisbon looked back at Bosco, openly displaying her uncertainty for the first time since she'd sat down.

"Don't worry, Lisbon, you're in good hands. Cho is a veteran of Desert Storm, and he was in the Special Forces for three years. Not to mention the fact that if the drug movement into the school originates from gang members, as we suspect, Cho was in a gang in Oakland before he went into the Army, so he'll be a valuable resource."

She caught Cho's eyes again, and found them to be quietly confident and suddenly reassuring. She gave him a small smile, and she was pleased to see a brief sparkle appear in his dark eyes before it vanished just as quickly. Maybe the man wasn't such a cold fish after all. Cho, it would seem, had hidden depths.

Bosco noticed the brief exchange between the two young officers, and nodded to himself in satisfaction. Twenty years in law enforcement had given him insight into who would work well together and who would not. Instinct told him that this oddly matched pair would be a good fit. He moved aside Lisbon's personnel file and handed her the one underneath.

"This is a copy of the fake records we've sent to the school. Since you attended high school and college in Chicago, you shouldn't be likely to run into anyone you know here. Your information is very similar to what we obtained from your old school, so it shouldn't be hard to remember your new persona."

She opened the file folder and gave the first page a cursory scan. He was letting her keep her real name.

"I'm a senior?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"Yes. The dean of the academy knows what we're doing, but none of the rest of the faculty have been informed, so you'll have to stay in character around everyone, especially your teachers. But it's the kids who will be able to spot a fake a mile away, so this is where your acting skills will need to be flawless."

"Yes, sir," she said. I can do this, she said to herself, though her heart was racing now with the enormity of what she was being entrusted to do. Then another thought occurred to her.

"Is this a co-ed high school?" she asked.

"Yes. Will that be a problem, Miss Girls' School?"
"No, sir. Actually, it's somewhat of a relief. Teenage girls can be real—"

"Bitches?" He suggested. He chuckled when she nodded in agreement. "I remember," he said.

He turned to Cho.

"I've gone over the case with you, so you can bring Lisbon up to speed with the details. Your uniforms should be delivered today, and I'm giving you the weekend off to prepare and wrap your minds around your new personas. Any questions?"

"No sir," they answered in unison, though Lisbon was sure she'd have a ton of them once she'd had a minute to think.

"Good. I expect daily reports on your progress. I can't emphasize enough how much we're counting on you two to get to the bottom of this. Kids' lives are at stake, and understandably, parents in the community are scared and anxious for the department to do something about it. The mayor is really applying the pressure on top of that. Now, go home. Immerse yourselves in the case files. Work out together how you're going to handle things. I'll see you back here in a week with a progress report. We'll decide what to do from there."

"Yes sir," they replied again.

Bosco's desk phone rang, and he waved them out the door as he answered it. They were on their own.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside Bosco's office, Lisbon tried to gauge Cho's state of mind, but to no avail.

"Let's get coffee," she suggested.

"Okay."

They left the precinct station and walked to a nearby park. They bought two coffees from a food truck and sat across from each other at a picnic table, the ever-present breeze from the distant bay blowing Lisbon's dark hair into her face. She pushed it behind her ears in annoyance. Cho's military cut stayed stubbornly in place.

"Why us?" she began, voicing what she'd wondered since Bosco had told her the assignment.

"It's obvious with you," said Cho.

"What? Why?"

"You look like you're about fifteen."

She frowned. "I do not. I'm twenty-five years old."

He shrugged, but didn't argue, just sipped at his plain black coffee.

Lisbon shook two sugar packets into her cup, stirring idly with a red plastic swizzle stick.

"I guess your background explains why Bosco picked you, but, no offense, there are much more experienced cops on the force…"

"This isn't a war zone," said Cho dryly. "It's a private prep school."

She gave a small snort. "You obviously don't remember much about high school."

Cho smirked. "Well, the truth of the matter is, with all the recent gang violence on the streets, they can spare two of the least experienced cops to do some cushy undercover job. Not very flattering, but it is what it is."

She supposed he had a point. "Still, they must have had some faith in our abilities to trust us not to screw it up."

"I guess."

"Your confidence is underwhelming," she said in amusement.

And then he rewarded her with a full-on dimpled smile, which he quickly hid behind his white Styrofoam cup.

Oddly enough, Lisbon felt ten times better.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Monday morning arrived, and Lisbon was in a panic reminiscent of her most horrid first day of school some seven years before. She was convinced she was in a nightmare, wherein she was doomed to repeat high school for all eternity. The uniform for Bay Vista Academy was eerily similar to the one she'd worn to Sacred Heart Catholic School for Girls back in Chicago, making her déjà vu complete.

She stood before her bedroom mirror, staring at the awkward girl she had once been. The red and blue plaid skirt came just below her knees (unlike the taller girls she remembered, who looked much more fashionable with the hem just above) and the white button-up blouse was crisp beneath the navy blue, crested cardigan. She'd purchased a new pair of red Keds and white bobby socks, hoping these were still the appropriate accessories. She'd been tempted to buy a matching headband, but chose to wait to see what the girls at her new school were wearing.

"Dear Lord," she muttered to her reflection, "it's like I've really gone back in time."

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the mission, but she knew how girls could be, especially to the new kid, and the weight of having to fit in with strangers suddenly felt like an anvil upon her shoulders. She not only had to find a way to gain their confidence, but she also had to get them to include her in their outside activities. No small fete with teenagers, who were infinitely judgmental and conscious of everyone's firm place within the school caste system. At least the uniform would hide the fact that Lisbon had come from a working class family in an unfashionable side of Chicago.

"You can do this," she repeated to herself for the hundredth time since Friday. She slung her new backpack over one shoulder and went out to her Mustang.

At least my car is cool, she thought morosely.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon had the sinking feeling she was late as she entered Bay Vista Academy. Cho was already there, wearing his private security firm uniform, standing casually just inside the school entrance. She purposefully ignored him and headed in the direction of the Main Office.

"You're late," said the school secretary. "Class begins promptly at 8:30."

"I'm sorry," Lisbon said, flushing in embarrassment, "traffic…"

The woman raised an eyebrow, having heard that excuse a time or two, but didn't comment further as she handed Lisbon her class schedule.

"Your first period is English, with Mr. Jane. Down the hall and to your left-Room 103."

"Thank you."

"Leave home a little earlier tomorrow, dear" she warned more kindly. The middle-aged woman had the usual air of self-importance that most long-time school secretaries had-they knew full well that the school couldn't run without them.

"Yes, ma'am," Lisbon said obediently, almost slipping and calling her Sister.

With that thought, she murmured The Lord's Prayer to herself and walked down the silent hallway before stopping in front of Room 103. She peeped inside the rectangular window in the door, wondering if she should knock or attempt to slip in quietly.

The teacher—Mr. Jane, she presumed—was already speaking animatedly to his students, and she heard them laugh at something he'd said. She could only see the back of his blonde head above a nicely tailored suit coat and realized this might be her only chance to sneak in, so she carefully turned the knob. The door was locked.

"Dammit," she murmered, closing her eyes in an attempt to calm herself.

When she opened them again, she was surprised to find herself face to face with her new English teacher, the glass window still between them. She gasped and took an involuntary step back. Inside the room, the kids laughed at her expression. Lisbon blushed anew, and met the eyes of the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. His amused smile stretched from ear to ear, showing straight white teeth and crinkling his green eyes compellingly.

He's your teacher. He's your teacher, she reminded herself, although he was probably only a few years older than her.

He opened the door, and she found herself right where she hadn't wanted to be: at the center of attention. Immediately, heads went together and instead of laughter, she heard the faint buzzing of excited whispers. Infinitely worse than laughter. Given the fact that all the girls were wearing knee socks and Mary Jane's, she had no doubt she'd already failed her first fashion test. Shit.

"Class, please welcome our new student," Mr. Jane was saying. "Come in and join us, Miss-?"

"Lisbon," she replied. "Teresa Lisbon."

He led her to an open desk on the front row. Great. She'd have no way to observe the other students up here.

She set her backpack on the floor beside her chair and prayed now that he would let her be and continue with his lesson. But apparently God wasn't taking calls this morning.

"Aw, Lisbon," said Mr. Jane dramatically. "The most beautiful city in Portugal. You're not from there, are you? Because I'd love to get the chance to practice my Portuguese..."

The class tittered as he winked at them.

"Uh, no," said Lisbon, willing her voice not to quaver. "I'm from—"

"Guess, Mr. Jane!" interrupted a girl from behind her.

Mr. Jane tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I'm pretty good with accents," he explained to Lisbon. "And while I've only heard three words of your tongue's utterance, I'd say you are from…Chicago, right?"

The class seemed to hold its collective breath.

"That's right," Lisbon replied, startled.

His students applauded. This man is an entertainer, Lisbon realized, using her own powers of insight. He has these kids in the palm of his hand, hanging on his every word. Almost like they've been hypnotized…

Mr. Jane gave her a knowing smile, as if he'd read her very thoughts.

"Well, welcome to San Francisco, Miss Lisbon. Our pizza isn't that great, but the scallops are to die for."

Then, to her immense relief, he seemed to pick up the thread of his former lecture, while at the same time moving gracefully across the room to a bookshelf. He snared a small paperback volume from a stack, The Importance of Being Earnest, and placed it gently on her desk.

"This play is Oscar Wilde's comedic masterpiece," he was saying. "One about romance, ruses"—here, he shot Lisbon a mysteriously pointed look—"and repartee." He waggled his eyebrows comically. "My favorite Three R's."

He delved further into the plot, then, to Lisbon's horror, he began assigning parts for the students to read aloud in class.

"Miss Lisbon," he said, and her spine stiffened. "You shall play the lovely Cecily, who falls hopelessly and obliviously in love with the lying rake, Algernon. Are you up to the challenge, Teresa?"

Was it her imagination, or was there some sort of double meaning in his question?

"I'll do my best," she said.

"Good. Now that we've filled all the parts, let's open your books to the beginning of Act I…"

The rest of the period passed quickly, much to Lisbon's surprise. Except for the fact that Mr. Jane insisted they stand while reading their parts, she thoroughly enjoyed herself and the play, actually forgetting for a little while that she herself was playing a part. Occasionally, Mr. Jane would pause to explain some of the Victorian dialogue, or add some witty analysis of the characters. And when the boy who played Algernon had to use the restroom, Mr. Jane filled in briefly, and his delivery of the character's lines had the students overcome with laughter. He seemed to take great pleasure in dramatic gesticulation, his English accent flawless, his comic timing impeccable. And he hadn't even needed to use the book.

Lisbon nearly jumped at the sound of the bell, and she closed her book somewhat reluctantly. Her next class was Geometry. She'd hated Geometry.

"We shall continue the amusing adventures of Jack and Algernon tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen. Don't forget to bring your books with you. Miss Lisbon, may I speak with you a moment?"

Lisbon waited by her desk, a feeling of dread overwhelming her. She watched as Jane spoke a few words to some of the exiting students, patting one or two on the back in praise of their performance. When all of them had left the room and they were finally alone, Jane turned to regard Lisbon. The smile left his face, his eyes draining of their former warmth as he leaned with deceptive casualness against the front of his large oak desk. He crossed his arms over his vest in what she could only describe as vaguely threatening.

"Now, Miss Lisbon," he said softly, staring directly into her eyes. "Would you mind telling me who the hell you really are?"

TBC

A/N: So, what do you think? Please log in and let me know. And a special thank-you to my fellow Mentalistas on Twitter, for being my sounding boards. I may not use all of your ideas, but tweeting with you helps me think and spurs my imagination. You guys are amazing!