Another oneshot for the Mentalist. I must say, this is based off the episode where Jane and Lisbon talk about trust. I was thinking, how would Jane fell when Lisbon actually said that she trusted him. It might not happen like this, but the idea spawned off into it's own world. I mean, honestly. It was NOT supposed to happen like this.

Dedication: As you can see, this be dedicated to Ranel U. Owle. She recently finished a story for NCIS (go read it, if you like Tiva, Jibbs, and McAbby), and I decided she deserved a oneshot as celebration. :)

Disclaimer: Screw these things. I mean, really. I don't want to be reminded of this each and every time I write a new chapter/oneshot. I'd love to own though.


Jane heard her giggle, but the only thing that he could comprehend was his shirt, just barely covering her thighs. He had been searching for it for the past ten minutes, as it was the only shirt he had at her house. Now, seeing her clad in that, and only that, he stopped. He had two options, and each was as great as the next.

One, he could let her keep it on. The sight of her in his pale blue dress shirt, her hair framing her face and making her look girly was enough to make him flip.

Or, two; he could take it off her. Slowly, and very very happily, take it off her. He was sure there was nothing under that shirt. He had seen what underwear she was wearing earlier that day, and they would be seen through that shirt. As he weighed his options, he decided that he would let her decide. Catching up to her halfway down the hallway, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

"Are you going to take that shirt off?" He asked, and she laughed. Turning slightly in his arms, causing her shoulder to press against his chest, she smirked.

"Depends. Where would you like it to land?"

The statement sent shivers down his spine, and in an instant, he picked her up and twirled her around. She laughed as he spun her around in the hall, finally setting her down as he became dizzy. Once he pushed her gently up against the wall, he asked again.

"Are you, going to, take off that shirt?" He asked, and she shrugged. She liked this position, surprisingly. Deciding to use the way their bodies were pressed against each other to her advantage, she arched her back. The reaction she got was just what she needed to slip out from under him and run to the kitchen. Laughing, he followed her. He pinned her up against the counter, this time with her back to his chest. He put his arms around her on either side, placing his hands on the cold counter top. From lack of a shirt, he shivered. It was getting very cold, and he needed his shirt. Nevertheless, deep down, he knew he didn't really need it. He loved playing this game with her.

"I think the answer is no." She whispered, causing him to smile. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her back against his chest even more. Glancing at the clock, he realized they really should have been in bed. Well, separate. As of that moment, this was the closet they had ever been, and the least dressed around each other. Seeing as their relationship was rather slow moving, this was a first. The sight of her, in his shirt was just… unnerving. Never had he been this thrown off, and riled up.

It was all his fault too. He had made her angry, causing her to dump pancake batter on him. After that, he had to take a shower. This required the removing of clothes. He was surprised that the batter hadn't gotten on his shirt. It had been all over his head. As one of their Saturday traditions, he came over to her house for dinner (even though they sometimes ate breakfast food), and then they watched TV until midnight. After that, he usually left. Since it was still slightly awkward when it came to bed, he just left.

"No it is." He said, lifting her up off her feet and carrying her to her bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, a girlish smile crossing her face. When she felt the bed below her, she kept her hold on his neck. He ended up lying next to her, his arms around her waist.

"Why am I in bed?" She asked, not removing her face from his bare shoulder.

"It's Sunday now." He said, and she nodded. Her stomach sunk as the thought that she was going to fall asleep, and he would leave crossed her mind. Slowly, she undid her hands from the back of his neck, and turned over. She was surprised when the light went off, but his arms wrapped around her waist. She had expected him to leave. Instead, he was right behind her, shoes and shirt off.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying to get over the feeling of his breath fanning out across her neck.

"I'm going to sleep." He said, and she turned over in his arms. She looked at his eyes, trying to figure out how they got here. He saw the confusion in her eyes, and kissed her.

"I promise I'll be here in the morning." He whispered, running his fingers over her arm. She looked at his neck, kissing the soft skin there.

"I trust you." She whispered, causing a smile to cross his face.

"Really?" He asked, and she smacked his chest.

"You leave, and you'll lose it." She said, and he kissed the side of her face.

He didn't intend on losing it. Not now, and not ever.


As you can tell, this is established Jisbon. I wanted something fluffy, I hope I got it.

I'd love reviews. :) -Izzy.