Spoilers/Timeline: None/Set in the future

A/N: I'm not sure if this was a direct result of 4x08 Pink Tops or if the idea of a club setting was just lurking in my brain. Either way, I hope you enjoy. Thanks to K. Elisabeth for the quick spot check.

Disclaimer: The Mentalist doesn't belong to me; Title from the Sugarland song of the same name.

She groaned, pulling up the strap of her tank top for the umpteenth time. Even Van Pelt's last minute fix in the bathroom ("Always good to have some fabric tape and bandaids on hand, boss") hadn't lasted. The safety pin she'd seen in the younger woman's bag might have worked, but they couldn't risk being seen together again.

No, no new bartender should be abandoning their post, forget being seen hanging out with any paying customers. Especially one that had just started frequenting the club days ago.

It was suspicious.

In three words: bad undercover work.

Which was why she'd gladly spend the rest of the night fighting with the strap. No way was she going to blow the operation or put her team at risk for a little—ok, really, it was unbelievably irritating—annoyance.

Ridiculous clothes and insanely loud music aside, she was enjoying herself. It was nice not to be hunched over her desk sifting through case folders or curled up in her apartment trying to relax while her mind kept circling back to their latest suspect.

Not that that was all she did in her apartment.

Far from it if the last three months were anything to go by, but even when she found herself spent and resting in his arms she could feel her mind start to wander.

It was something she was certain he'd break through eventually but for now...

Now it was nice to get lost in the energy—the looseness—of the club. It helped that her maddening colleague—friend and... partner (even after months, they hadn't found one label that worked for them; he objected to boyfriend almost as adamantly as she did to girlfriend)—seemed to be having a good time as well.

In fact, she was a little surprised to see just how into donning a new persona Jane was. It wasn't just how he was dressed, a tight t-shirt and jeans in place of his usual suit, but the lightness of his voice, the way he was moving on the floor.

Spinning to the beat of the music, she grinned as she found him weaving his way across the room, juggling two shots (her third of the night) and a beer for them to share. It was just enough to make them fit in with crowd without either of them losing their focus and perceptions.

He paused to take a pull from the beer and then continued, bouncing along with the crowd as he did.

On the one hand, it made sense. He was forever observing, knowing just how to manipulate a situation, it would be easy for him to fall back into putting on a mask, pretending.

It could almost be too comfortable though.

Still—she laughed as he stopped to instigate a "fight" with bouncer Rigsby—it was probably a good thing that he was at ease enough with his past to just get into the role.

"Brought ya another drink, Dusty." He winked, handing her one of the shot glasses as he balanced the beer on a nearby ledge.

"Thanks, honey." Tipping her head back, she gulped the liquid down, shuddering at the warmth it spread through her as his arm wrapped her waist.

"Damn that's... it's not even fair to look... "

"Hmm?" She gazed up at him, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the slight flush flaring around his ears. "You feeling ok? You look like you might—"

"Don't you dare." It came out part growl, part frustrated sigh as his fingers closed around her wrist and he moved them further onto the dance floor. Quickly, he spun her out before pulling her back to him.

Close.

She doubted you could fit a freakin' leaf of tea between them.

It was hot and fun and... crazy...

Crazy.

They were working. They should be paying attention to the nightly band and their security team and not their own little world. Besides, none of the team knew about them yet and if she wasn't careful they'd be able to read it all too easily on her face.

Cop or not, she still couldn't completely obscure the truth from her friends.

They were getting quite the show though, with the way Jane kept switching up their rhythm, letting her dance on her own, even mimicking her actions, before moving against her once more.

"You know..." She let her arm fall over his shoulder, putting some distance between them as the song changed. "I really don't want us to get arrested for indecent—"

"Oh, come on..." He paused, leaving her name unspoken as he ducked his head. "Have some fun."

"I am!"

"Good." That cheshire-like grin swept over his face and she laughed, knowing he was dying to use some eight syllable word, but hadn't for fear of being overheard.

It was one of the things she loved most about him. That, despite his sometimes apparent lack of motivation, whenever he decided he was invested in something he gave it his all.

"We need to foc—"

"Ah ah, I don't want to talk now. We're here to enjoy the night off, babe."

Glaring, she shook her head, gasping as his hands flexed on her waist. Screw being completely responsible, it felt amazing to just enjoy for once.

"Fine, but you need to still be able know what's going on around us."

"You're talking to the master of multitasking. I can..." His eyes danced in the low light and he inhaled sharply as he pressed his hips to hers. "notice several things... at once..."

"Oh yeah?" Rocking against him, she slid her hand down his chest. "How come you didn't notice the new chaise in bedroom the other night then?"

His jaw dropped, hand covering hers as it skirted dangerously low on his body. "How is that even a fair question? All you had on was your blazer and a pair of heels that..."

He gulped, the image flashing before him as clear as if it had happened three minutes ago not three days. That little half smile she'd worn as he'd pushed into the room after washing the lingering dishes, her hair mussed from a long day at work and the hour and half they'd spent at the range.

He might not personally like guns, but watching her handle one...

Shuddering, he stroked his hand up her back, smiling as their eyes met and she moved closer. Before he knew it she had him pressed to the nearest column, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt as she kissed him hungrily.

All tongue and teeth, her hips grinding against his as his arms tightened around her.

Groaning, he pulled away for a brief moment before covering her lips with his, smiling against her as she sighed beneath him. Her knee nudged between his as her teeth tugged at his bottom lip, his hands raked through her hair, and they got lost in the moment.

"Wow." She gasped, her forehead falling to his shoulder.

"Wow, indeed." Smiling down at her, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she took a slight step back. "And how exactly are you going to explain that to the rest of the team?"

"I... er..." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to calm the still rapid pounding her chest. "Ah, simple, you hypnotized me."

"Well, not in the literal sense, dear..." He smirked, eyebrow lifting.

"Don't look so smug." Laughing, she began to sway to the music once more, her fingers dipping under the collar of his tee.

"I don't think..." He leaned close, tipping his head towards the band's security team as they started to disperse themselves through the crowd and the bell for last call rang. "They're making their move tonight."

"No, I guess not." Nodding to Rigsby, she made her way back to their drinks and her purse, shouldering it as Jane paused beside her. "I don't know, do you think you can handle another night with Dusty?"

"Oh, bring it on." He chuckled and grinned as her arm slid around his waist and they made their way out of the club.

Stopping to adjust her shirt one last time, she leaned into his embrace before digging his car keys out of her bag. They might be playing Dusty and Gage Brayden for a few nights, but this—his jacket fell over her shoulders as they stepped out into the crisp early morning air—this was all them.