A/N: This story takes place mid-season 1, shortly after "Red Brick and Ivy." (You know, the one where his old psychiatrist calls for his help?) I thought I'd wait until we get a little more into season 4 before I wrote anything more current, so, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this bit of romantic fluff.

Red Lace

Chapter 1

It had been a week since Lisbon had seen Jane kiss Sophie Miller's cheek, and she couldn't get the touching image out of her mind. She didn't know why; it was just a peck. But afterward, he'd seemed so sad, and his subsequent bout of depression had gone on a little longer than just a day or two. It hadn't helped that they hadn't had a case to divert him this week.

Jane's smiles lately had been rare, and he spent a lot of time on his couch. Sometimes he would disappear to God-knew-where for hours at a time, returning as unexpectedly as he'd left, looking even more rumpled and haggard than usual. She suspected he was napping outside on the ground somewhere like a homeless person, for once she'd seen dried grass on the back of his vest and tangled in his burnished gold curls. It didn't take a detective to note that his morose mood had begun right after he'd said good-bye to his former psychiatrist.

Sophie Miller's re-entry into Jane's life had brought back that horrible time after his family had been murdered to the fore, but Lisbon suspected that was only part of his problem. Jane had obviously developed deep feelings for the woman who'd brought him back from the edge of despair. The way he looked at her was unlike Lisbon had seen him look at any woman for all the years she'd known him.

That's what Jane looks like when he's smitten, Lisbon thought in wonder.

He'd seemed strangely unsure of himself with Sophie, almost like a little boy with his first crush. It was sweet and even endearing, but ultimately very sad, for like a little boy, he seemed helpless to do anything about it. This is what had been tormenting Lisbon for days.

Patrick Jane needed a woman in his life, and not just in the workplace as a mother figure, keeping him in line. He was lonely, and a feminine influence would go a long way toward easing his suffering, of that Lisbon had no doubt. But in order for that ever to happen, he needed to ease up on his self-flagellation and open himself up to the possibility of pursuing someone new. He just needed a little push.

She looked over at the man in question, who at that moment was lying asleep on her office couch, which he did sometimes when the noise of the bullpen became too bothersome. She didn't mind, and she felt he did it because he enjoyed her companionship. It certainly couldn't be because of her notoriously uncomfortable couch. This just reaffirmed in Lisbon's mind that she was correct in her assessment of the reason behind his depression. Patrick Jane was lonely.

He shifted a little and turned away from the couch cushion so she could clearly see his face. I mean, look at him, mused Lisbon to herself. What woman wouldn't want this man? He's as beautiful and tragic as a fallen angel.

That particular characterization was so far from the truth that Lisbon nearly laughed aloud at her own thoughts.

"That hurts, you know," said the deceptively beatific figure on her couch.

Her heart lurched in startle, immediately thinking (as she often did) that he could really read her mind.

"Huh?" she managed lamely.

"The hole you're boring into my head with the laser beams of your eyes."

A ghost of his old grin appeared and he sat up abruptly, swinging his feet to the floor and looking at her slightly flushed face.

"How did you know I was even looking at you?" she asked, regaining her composure through the guise of irritation.

He tapped his temple with one deft finger. "I know all and see all, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, oh Great Carnac, for what reason could I possibly be staring at you?"

He started to say something flip, but then he changed his mind and grew serious, his blue-green eyes alighting on hers with quiet intensity. "You don't have to worry about me, Lisbon. I'm okay, really."

Lisbon swallowed over the unexpected lump in her throat. She decided to dive in and level with him. They were friends, right? Friends could be honest with each other.

"I am worried. Ever since Sophie Miller—"

He held up a forestalling hand. "It's not that."

She wasn't convinced. "She stirred up some things for you, though, didn't she? That's why you've been so down this past week."

"Perhaps," he said, his eyes sliding away from hers. It was unlike him to give away his discomfort like that. She'd hit it squarely on the head; he only needed to admit it.

"Then what is it?"

He shrugged, his gaze returning to hers. "I don't know, Lisbon. Everyone gets down in the dumps now and then. Despite what some may think, I am only human after all." She grinned and shook her head at his at once both egotistical and self-effacing statement.

"You're right. I have no reason to worry about someone whose confidence and self-esteem are so firmly in place. Now, just go back to your psychologically healthy slumber of avoidance." She waved a hand dismissively.

"No need to be snippy, Lisbon. I do appreciate your concern, truly."

She looked at him a moment, debating whether to tell him what she'd really been thinking.

"You need a woman in your life," she told him matter-of-factly.

It was a rare thing to see Patrick Jane taken off guard, and if she hadn't felt so badly for him, she might have found satisfaction in his surprised expression.

"What-?"

"It's true," she plowed on, "I think it's about time you jumped into the dating pool again. You're obviously depressed and lonely, and a new love interest might be just the thing to bring you out of it."

She'd never stepped this far into his personal business, ever. It was scary and acutely uncomfortable for both of them. But she was honestly worried for his mental health, and sometimes one had to take drastic measures to save someone from drowning. Jane was quick to recover his wits, and he immediately hid his discomfort with his trademark grin.

"But I already have you, Lisbon," he said charmingly.

"You know what I mean."

He visibly shifted gears, sitting back against the couch, hands laced casually behind his head. "All right, Dr. Lisbon. What are you proposing here? Say, you think I could find true love on Watt Avenue this Saturday night?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting." She sighed in frustration. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. I don't know why I waste my time worrying about you. Wallow in your misery for all I care." She resolutely focused on her computer screen, and they both grew silent.

"I'm not ready yet, Teresa," he said, so softly she was at first unsure he'd said anything at all. He sounded so painfully lost she felt compelled to get up from her desk and join him on the couch, where he was hanging his head, worrying his wedding ring with his right hand.

"It's been over five years, Jane. Long ago, women cast off their widow's weeds after a year of mourning. There was a reason for that. Do you really think your wife would want you to be alone after all this time?"

"My wife's dead, Lisbon. She doesn't think anything anymore."

She wasn't going to get into a theological discussion with him over that point.

"You say you're not ready, but I think what you really mean is you're not ready to stop punishing yourself."

He didn't deny it, or get angry with her for butting into his business, two reactions he might have had had she proposed this idea a week ago. This was a sign to Lisbon that she was on the right track, that maybe he was beginning to see that he actually needed her help. He lifted dull eyes to hers, looking more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him.

"Would it hurt to give it a try?" she encouraged quietly. "Just drinks with a woman, or maybe even lunch? I mean, you gotta eat anyway, right?"

His lips quirked in wry amusement. "Suppose I said yes. You have someone in mind?"

She smiled gently. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"Naturally. Anyone I know?"

"No. But she'd be perfect for you. Intelligent, funny, likes to read and do puzzles…"

"Wait, don't tell me—she has a great personality." His sarcasm didn't daunt her.

"I swear, she's not some homely spinster with a dozen cats. She's actually very beautiful—a willowy blonde."

He looked blatantly suspicious. "What's wrong with her? If she's such a good catch, Lisbon, why hasn't she been…caught?"

"Well…her fiancé died in a car accident two years ago…"

He laughed for the first time in days, though it was a bitter sound. "Geez, Lisbon, that oughta cheer me up! I can see it now—we'd spend half the date discussing which phase of grief we were on, the other half commiserating over the high costs of funeral expenses. That sounds like a great time. Thanks, but no thanks."

"She's not like that. She's not wallowing in self pity. She's ready to get back out on the dating scene, but I can tell she's a little afraid to dip her toe in again. You'd be good for each other, because you both understand what it's like to lose someone, how hard it is to let go of the past."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"No. Come on. One drink, no pressure. Just to put yourself back out there a little. Please? It would go a long way toward easing my worry for you."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way," came his sardonic rejoinder. She knew it was hard for him to say no to her when she directly asked a favor. He was quiet a moment, and Lisbon was pleased to see he might actually be considering it. He sighed and leaned again against the back of the couch.

"Fine."

"What? Really?"

He looked her dead in the eye. "Yes. On one condition."

It was her turn to be suspicious. "What condition?"

"You let me do the same for you."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. I mean, if you're gonna sit there and play Dolly Levi, you'd better take a good long look at your own love life, or lack thereof."

"This is about you, Jane, not me," she said evasively. "I'm not the one who's been sleeping in parks or moping around like someone kicked my dog. I'm trying to save you from yourself. Besides, I'm too busy to have a love life."

"Ha." He may as well have said bullshit.

"Ha?"

"Ha," he reiterated. "How long has it been since you had a real date yourself, Lisbon? And your monthly booty call from Accounting doesn't uh, count." He grinned at his own pun, and it widened even further as he watched her face contort in horror.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She rose and moved back behind the safety of her desk.

"Besides," he continued almost gleefully. "I believe he got married about six months ago, so that avenue is now a dead end. Time you got back in the saddle again too, don't ya think?"

"Fine, Jane. Forget the whole thing. If you're not going to take this seriously…"

"Oh, but I am," he maintained. "As a matter of fact, this whole idea of yours has really piqued my interest. I feel myself pulling out of my depression just at the very thought of it. Thank you, Lisbon, for coming up with this inspired idea. Now, let me see…what kind of man would appeal to Teresa Lisbon?"

"I said we could forget about it. It was a stupid idea. You're probably not really ready after all. It was insensitive of me to suggest it."

He ignored her. "He'd have to be someone with a keen mind, obviously. And he'd have to have a sense of humor—those cute dimples of yours aren't just for decoration, after all. He can't be intimidated by you, that's the most important trait."

"Jane," she nearly growled.

"You know I'm right, Lisbon. You can be a little overbearing at times, admit it. He'd have to be good in the sack, too, if Mr. Accounting's reputation is any indication of what you go for."He ignored her gasp of embarrassed outrage.

"Wait"—he snapped his fingers—"I know just the guy!"

"Get out of my office." Her murderous expression only encouraged him.

"It's settled then. I'll be happy to date Miss Lonely Hearts, if you go out with the special guy I choose for you."

Lisbon was literally heaving with anger that he'd make such a mockery of her sincere desire to help him. Clearly he was hoping to get her so riled up she'd forget about fixing him up and leave him to his self-imposed celibacy. As this thought occurred to her, the light bulb suddenly went on in her head, and her fury faded away. She'd been caught in his web of reverse psychology. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she decided she'd call his bluff. Jane saw her expression and couldn't help cringing almost imperceptively. He was so busted.

"Deal," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, scrambling for a way out of the hole he'd dug. "Because a minute ago you didn't seem so sure about all this."

"Yep, deal. And to make it more interesting, I think it should be a double date, just to watch each other's backs, you understand." There was no way she'd let him stand up her friend, and she wanted him there to face her if he purposefully set her up with a dud.

"But Lisbon, I really don't think that's neces—"

"Of course it is. You might think of this as a game, but there are two other people who might get hurt over this, people with real feelings. I admit I don't have much of a social life myself, so maybe you're right. It might be good for me to have a night on the town for a change…good for both of us."

"A night on the town?" he protested. "I thought you just said drinks."

"I've changed my mind. If you hadn't been out of commission for so long, you might remember that's a woman's prerogative. So, you get with this guy friend of yours and I'll arrange everything else."

He gulped. "When?"

"Saturday night, depending on my friend's schedule. Unless you have other plans for Watts Avenue," she said archly.

He didn't respond.

"Jane?"

"Okay," he said, a hint of stubbornness in his soft acquiescence. She knew he was still trying to figure a way to get out of this.

"Good. I'll let you know the details. Now, get out of my office and do something constructive for a change."

He rose as if in a daze, and Lisbon nearly smiled at his discomposure. When he got to the door, she couldn't resist adding one more order.

"Oh, and Jane?"

He paused, looking at her with familiar puppy dog eyes to which by now she had become completely immune.

"Wear a tie."

His eyebrows went up comically, and she managed to stifle her laugh until he quietly shut the door behind him.

A/N: Yes, I know this wouldn't happen in a million years, but I needed something light and fluffy to work on until I decided how/whether to continue my season three AU into the current season four. Please take it for the fluff it is, and by all means let me know what you think. Oh, and I promise to get to those review replies for my episode tag asap (thanks, for those, by the way!)

Next chapter will focus on Jane's point of view.