For Brooklyn (because it's better to be happy than sad). Here's hoping some Jane and Lisbon will make you smile!

"Do you get death threats on all of your cases?"

Patrick Jane looks over at his new boss with a raised eyebrow. He knows it's been a while since he'd last consulted for the police, but things can't have changed that much.

Teresa Lisbon keeps her eyes determinedly on the road as she navigates downtown Sacramento lunch hour traffic. She shrugs.

"It happens."

"How often?"

Jane is curious, not to mention more than a bit shaken. If Agent Lisbon is in danger, he reasons, he certainly can't be much better off. Especially considering he has absolutely no idea how to go about defending himself.

She sighs. "Occasionally," she eventually mutters. "It's something you get used to."

Jane is incredulous. "Really? You had a hit put out on you today, and you're going to sit there and tell me it doesn't bother you in the slightest? That it's something you're used to?"

Agent Lisbon finally glances over at him, and Jane is surprised all over again by the almost paradoxical intensity and calm that he reads in her jade eyes. "It's part of the job."

"So you've had Mexican drug lords threaten to kill you before."

She winces at his tone and looks over her shoulder as she merges lanes. "No," she says. "This would be the first."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

She taps her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. "I can take care of myself, Mr. Jane. And what's with all the questions today?"

It's Jane's turn to shrug. "I'm your new consultant. The more I know, the better I'll be able to consult." He clears his throat. "You can call me Patrick, you know."

"I know, Mr. Jane."

He nearly rolls his eyes. "Why do cops insist upon calling people by their last names? It's impersonal."

"That's the point," says Agent Lisbon tersely under her breath, but Jane thinks there's more to the story than this. He opens up his mouth to inquire further, but at that moment, they turn into the CBI parking lot and she cuts him off. "I want you to stay out of the interrogation room on this one," she says. "Drug smugglers are…unpredictable at best, and you're still learning the ropes around here." Her eyes flash to the SUV pulling up which contains Agents Cho and Rigsby, who exit the vehicle with the burly man who'd threatened Agent Lisbon earlier. Jane says a quiet thank you to the universe that the man is in handcuffs. "You and Rigsby can watch Cho and I interrogate him from observation."

Jane doesn't argue. He's more than happy to put as much space between himself and the 300 pound drug lord as possible.

"Why do cops call each other by their last names?" Jane asks for the second time that day, hoping he'll get a more satisfactory response from Agent Rigsby, by far the most approachable member of the team. "Do you try to encourage keeping your distance from each other?"

The taller man glances over at him. It's dark in the observation room, but his look of surprise is evident.

Before answering, he waits to make sure Agents Lisbon and Cho are not yet discussing anything of major importance with their suspect. When it's clear that Agent Lisbon is only informing the man that the interview will be recorded, Agent Rigsby turns to Jane.

"That's probably what Lisbon would tell you, yeah," he says. "But it's the line we always give outsiders."

"I'm an outsider?" asks Jane.

"You're certainly not a cop," says Agent Rigsby, biting back a laugh.

"That still doesn't answer my question."

Agent Rigsby's eyes narrow, and Jane has the oddest sensation that he's being cold read for the first time in his life.

He doesn't like it.

Agent Rigsby eventually caves. "Using last names is our way of…I guess the best way to describe it would be showing affection. You know, like high school football players do with each other." He has to explain himself upon getting a blank stare from Jane. "I know it seems like it's less personal, but in cop-speak, using last names is a sign of respect. It's not always that way, but it is on our team."

"So when Agent Lisbon refuses to drop the 'Mr.' from 'Mr. Jane,' it means I'm not a part of the team yet."

"You're still new here," says Rigsby. "It'll take a while to prove yourself. It took three months before Lisbon called me 'Rigsby' for the first time," he adds, smiling slightly at some distant memory.

At that moment, Agent Cho begins to talk, and Jane and Agent Rigsby turn in unison to the one-way mirror.

Agents Cho and Lisbon sit with their backs to the mirror, allowing Jane and Agent Rigsby a clear view of Roberto Barrales, who sits across the table in hand- and ankle-cuffs. The man has several tattoos on his head, neck, and arms, and Jane guesses he has several more that aren't currently visible. Jane wonders if the tattoos have some kind of macabre significance and then decides he doesn't want to know.

Barrales has more muscle mass than both Agent Cho and Agent Lisbon combined, and as he begins to speak, Jane instinctively takes a step back.

Barrales doesn't even attempt to answer Agent Cho's question. Instead, he focuses on Agent Lisbon, the corner of his mouth raised slightly in a smirk.

"You sweating yet, sweetheart?"

Agent Lisbon doesn't miss a beat. "Only because it's about ninety degrees outside and the air conditioning in this building is shit."

Jane has to smile at this. Even if Agent Lisbon is troubled by the threat on her life, she's not showing it.

Barrales leans forward, resting his forearms against the edge of the table. "You won't make it home tonight," he says, his voice low, and then he leans back in his chair, seemingly satisfied.

After this, he refuses to say another word, despite the several impressive—even by Jane's standards—interrogation strategies Agents Lisbon and Cho choose to employ. An hour later, the team regroups in the observation room, looking somewhat dejected.

"Let him stew there for a couple hours," Agent Lisbon says. "Then I want to try talking with him again before we take him to lockup."

"You got it, Boss," says Agent Rigsby, and Agent Cho nods. They head out into the hallway, and Agent Lisbon turns to Jane.

"Did you notice anything?" she asks.

He realizes that she's caught him staring at her. He shakes himself mentally, trying to forget the image he has in his mind of her crumpled form lying on the ground in the dark, a bullet through the side of her skull. He focuses on her delicate features instead, hoping this will allow him to dissipate the shadows around him, but thinking about her porcelain skin, her freckles, and her graceful but sure fingers only remind him of similar features on his wife's corpse.

"You okay?"

Jane shakes his head again. "Yeah, sorry," he says. "Just a little distracted." He looks at her, then amends his statement. "Actually, no. I'm not okay. You'll have some kind of protective detail on you tonight, right?"

Agent Lisbon gives him a sympathetic look. "No, Mr. Jane."

"There's a hit out on you."

"The CBI can't afford to assign me a protective detail every night for the rest of my life," she points out. "It doesn't work like that."

Jane gapes at her, and not for the first time he wonders what he'd gotten himself into when he agreed to sign on as a consultant.

Agent Lisbon tilts her head to the mirror, through which they can see Barrales, now absently picking at a hangnail on his thumb. "So, any insights?"

"That man should be thrown in prison," Jane says.

"So he's guilty?"

"Of threatening you, absolutely."

Agent Lisbon rolls her eyes. "Of the murder," she clarifies.

"Oh, yes, that too."

"And how do you know this?"

He opens his mouth to answer, intending to give her a detailed explanation of microexpressions. Then he clamps his lips together. A beat passes. "You know what? Never mind. Ignore me."

She shrugs. "Easy enough." And she turns on her heel, heading out the door to move to her office.

Jane's eyes flash to the one-way mirror. He's suddenly hyperaware of the way his heart feels in his chest, contracting and expanding at twice its normal speed, and it occurs to him that the last time so much adrenaline was coursing through his system was when his hand was on the door to a room at the end of a darkened hallway.

Without stopping to dwell on his decision, Jane steps into the hallway, checks to make sure no one is watching, and then reaches for his lock picks.

The door to interrogation opens easily.

Barrales' eyes narrow as Jane steps into the room.

"Who the hell are you?" he asks.

Jane forces himself to put on the mask he'd perfected at his shows. "It's not important," he says dismissively, waving a hand as he sits down. He holds Barrales' gaze for a few seconds before he says, "Congratulations."

Barrales' brow knits in confusion. "What?"

"You and your girlfriend found out yesterday that you're expecting your first child."

"How could you—" begins Barrales. "We haven't told anyone yet."

Jane cuts him off. "You already have names picked out as well. You both hope it will be a boy so you can name him after your father. Javier. Nice name."

"What the hell?"

"But you're nervous. You're worried that harm will come to the child before he or she is born."

"Are you psychic or something?"

Jane nearly denies it, but then it occurs to him that he can use this to his advantage. So he says nothing.

The first traces of apprehension cross Barrales' face.

"You know how to read minds?"

Jane remains quiet.

After a beat or two, Jane speaks. "Right now, you're thinking it's a good thing that blondie here can't really read minds."

Barrales' eyes go wide, and he swears in Spanish. After muttering to himself for another minute, he meets Jane's eye, seemingly convinced. "Can you see the future, too?" His tone is cautious, almost fragile. Jane knows he's caught his mark.

Hook, line, and sinker.

God, that had been easy.

Jane leans forward. "You know something about energy?" he says, gesturing with his hand to indicate that there's something else in the room besides air.

Barrales drops his hands to his thighs, the cuffs echoing in the silence.

"It senses disturbances," continues Jane. "And energy is self-correcting. An act of bad energy will have to be repaid. It's like karma."

Barrales doesn't speak, but Jane catches him mouthing the name Javier.

"But the good news is that we can correct that energy before it has to correct itself."

"What are you saying?"

Jane leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

"You have a lot of red in your ledger. If you want to save your son, you better start making up for that."

Jane almost feels a sense of remorse about implying that the man's child will die if he doesn't clean up his act, but then he remembers that Barrales is, in fact, guilty of murder, and the feeling quickly dissipates.

Barrales raises his cuffed hands to rub at his forehead. Then he looks at Jane.

"What do I need to do?"

Jane steps out of interrogation, locks the door again, and then turns around to find himself face to face with Agent Cho.

Jane freezes.

Agent Cho gestures with his head to the observation room. "In here," he says, his voice impassive, and it's clear that he's just witnessed the entire ordeal.

Jane precedes him in, wondering if he's gotten himself fired on his second case. That would have to be a record, he thinks.

Agent Cho closes the door behind them. "How did you do that?" he asks. "How did you get a confession out of him?"

Jane shrugs. "He's like any other mark—you just have to find their weakness. They all break eventually."

"But how did you know what his weakness was?"

"When you and Agent Lisbon spoke with Barrales, he barely moved at all. Except when you mentioned his girlfriend. When you did, the corner of his mouth twitched up. It wasn't even a smile, but it told me he has happy."

"And the baby? How did you know he was worried about losing it?"

"Every parent is worried about losing their child."

"His father's name?"

"In his file. Come on, I do read some of the stuff you guys give me."

Agent Cho folds his arms across his chest. "Nicely done," he says, and then he walks out of the room, leaving Jane alone.

"Mr. Jane."

He blinks, and Agent Lisbon's blurry face begins to come into focus as he pulls himself from unconsciousness. Her bright eyes are the first thing he focuses on.

"Hello, Agent Lisbon. What can I do for you?"

He sits up on his couch, noting that she looks a little uncomfortable as she stands in front of him. He finds this endearing.

"I…I wanted to thank you," she says.

"Getting confessions is part of my job description," he says, shrugging.

She smiles. "It is," she agrees, "but I specifically wanted to thank you for getting Barrales to revoke the hit he'd taken out on me."

"Also part of my job description," he says, wondering if he's overstepping any bounds.

"What is?"

"Looking out for my teammates," he says quietly. "That is what we are, right? A team?"

Agent Lisbon smiles again, and it suddenly occurs to Jane that she is beautiful. Not like Angela had been. Rougher, sharper, somehow…but still beautiful.

"Yes," she says. "A team." She looks around at the empty bullpen. "I'm, uh, I'm headed out for the night."

"I'll walk with you," he says, and he stands up to walk by her side.

They ride the elevator in silence and part nearly the same way in the parking lot.

"Until tomorrow," he says.

"Goodnight, Jane," she says.

He doesn't quite comprehend the weight of her two words right away. But a few seconds later, he understands, and he watches in silence, gobsmacked, as she drives away. Then he smiles to himself, marveling at the fact that Lisbon had managed to surprise him.

He's fairly certain it won't be the last time she does.

AN2: Beautywithin16 has made a gorgeous gifset to accompany this fic. Look for it on tumblr soon!

Also, this story was inspired by the Bones episode "The Woman in the Garden." Obviously I don't own Bones or The Mentalist; I just love the characters to pieces :)