A/N: Written for the TM Discord Challenge, Episode: 3x16 Red Queen, Trope: Flirting Under Fire. Some dialogue is from the show, I do not own The Mentalist. This is one of my favorite episodes, hope you enjoy!

Adjournment: Suspension of a chess game with the intention to finish it later.


Lisbon moved up closer to the heavy attic door, the reassuring presence of Cho and Rigsby at her back. Her gun felt cold and heavy in her hand. It was harder to bear when the suspect was one of your own. She shifted slightly. "Jane? You in there?"

"Yeah, I'm coming out." His voice was flat, expressionless.

She glanced at Cho, his own gun trained on the door. He nodded, he heard it too.

"Not like you to lock the door," she called out, trying to keep it casual. "You have someone in there with you?"

"No need to be jealous, Lisbon. She's not as patient as you. You're gonna have to stand back," Jane continued through the closed door. "And if you're bearing firearms... please lower them. Please?"

The lock disengaged with a loud clunk.

Cho looked back at LaRoche for guidance. The large man glared back and shook his head. The three agents steadied their guns and waited for the target.

Lisbon clenched her jaw, focused on the task. A promising lead had unraveled into a truth too hard to believe. Hightower was a cold hearted killer. As the evidence mounted against her, for whatever reason, she had holed up in Jane's attic.

As the seconds ticked by, Lisbon's stomach turned to lead. He would have been caught completely off guard. She blamed herself. This was her case, her team, her boss. Jane was not going to die on her watch.

The door shifted, sliding open along the track. Light filtered through from the large windows behind, casting the figures in silhouette.

Lisbon blinked, her mouth falling open at the scene revealed in front of her.

Jane stood stiffly, his mouth grim. Duct tape wound around his neck, holding the business end of a shotgun against the base of his skull. At the other end, her hand fastened to the trigger with more tape, was Madeleine Hightower.

"Stand back or he dies," she stated with her usual calm authority. "Let us pass."

No one moved, too surprised to act.

She huffed at their indecision. "If you don't let us pass, you can try to stop me. But just know that my finger will reflexively pull this trigger... if I stumble or if I fall."

Lisbon found her voice. "Agent Hightower," she appealed. She still didn't want to believe it.

"Don't beat yourself up, Teresa. There's nothing you could have done. I got myself into it and I'm getting myself out. So clear a path."

The tension was thick. Lisbon swallowed. She wanted nothing more than to put her gun away and talk things out, but that wasn't an option anymore. Besides, she wasn't in charge here.

"Everyone... lower your weapons," LaRoche commanded, defeated. "Let them pass."

The agents complied, pointing their guns to the floor, but not holstering them. They shifted back slightly.

"Walk," Hightower prodded.

Jane flinched. "Walking." As he drew level with LaRoche he smiled grimly. "Thanks for that, J.J.. I'll owe you a bottle of scotch later."

"Keep moving," Hightower barked.

"Everyone stay calm," Jane soothed.

"Shut up."

For once, Jane complied without protest.

Lisbon brought up the rear, searching for any sign of weakness. It still didn't sit right with her. Hightower had opportunity to slip away earlier, why had she gone up to Jane's attic? Her thoughts were racing.

They moved slowly, deliberately, a strange little parade with all their firearms. They slowed as they neared the stairs.

"Lisbon?" Jane's voice was strained, small.

It tugged at her attention. Her eyes flicked through the shadows, her team, LaRoche, the threat that was Agent Hightower. Jane. He stood awkwardly, a shell of his usual self. She forced reassurance into her tone. "I'm here."

"No chitchat," Hightower commanded.

"Please," Jane's arms lifted fractionally, palms open, meek. He brought them to a stop. "We're about to walk through a bullpen full of CBI Agents. Any one of them could try to be a hero."

"Not on my watch," said LaRoche.

"We got your back, Jane," Lisbon added.

His eyes strained towards Hightower. "It's what's actually at my back that I'm worried about."

Hightower narrowed her eyes and pressed the gun into his neck. His hands raised further. "Choose your words carefully. If I detect any manipulation or hidden meanings…"

"I feel you. I just wanted to say... In case something unfortunate happens…"

"It won't," Lisbon interrupted. She moved so she could see his face. The shotgun forced his head down. He was poised at the top of the stairs, Hightower directly behind, the rest of them off to the side. The railing felt like a chasm between them. "Everything will be fine."

His eyes found hers briefly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. This isn't your fault."

"I wasn't talking about our current predicament."

"Oh."

His eyes circled her face, if they weren't in this dire situation, him standing stiff and uncomfortable, she might think he was amused by her response.

"Cho," he stated, unable to look at him fully. "You rise to every occasion. You are indispensable."

"I let you get away with a lot of crap."

"That too." His eyes shifted. "Rigsby."

"Yeah."

"You see the best in people. That's admirable in this profession, never lose it."

"Uh… thanks."

"LaRoche."

"Oh, come on!" Hightower exclaimed. "Let's move it."

"Hightower," he intoned. "It's not too late to turn yourself in."

"That's enough," she pressed forward and he went down one step.

"Wait." He looked back to Lisbon, desperate. "I have something for you," he stated. "I meant to give it to you earlier. You always think you'll have more time."

"We have loads of time. We'll go out tonight. You can give it to me then."

He flickered into a smile. "Are you asking me out?"

Her cheeks warmed.

"I've always fancied you in green," he added. "But I like this look too. Leather jackets are timeless."

Lisbon looked away, refusing to engage any further. She could feel Rigsby relax next to her.

"Let's go," Hightower snapped, putting them back on alert. "No phones, no guns. You get us through the bullpen and we'll get out of your hair. Clear?"

"You got it." LaRoche stated.

Once they got to the car, it was all over in a matter of minutes. They found Jane a few blocks away from the CBI, his SUV crashed into a concrete slab. The backseat was empty. He was clearly shaken, and possibly injured; Lisbon called an ambulance. The day was far from over, but she could breathe again. He was okay.

Hours later, she found herself outside the heavy attic door again. She tensed at the recent memory, forcing herself to relax as the door opened smoothly at her touch. She breezed through, encouraged to see Jane resting on his makeshift bed.

It was the first step towards normal.

She wiggled her phone at him. "Two hours without answering my calls, then this lousy text?"

He lifted his head. "I'm sorry, what? All that ringing... I thought it was my brain."

Her eyes softened. "The doctor said that was to be expected."

He held out his hand for her phone. "I must have pocket dialed, what did I say?" He grimaced as the words came into focus. "That's practically a whole conversation."

"You really don't remember?"

He sat back. "Guess my injury is worse than I thought."

"'You're still coming, right? It smells in here.'" she read. "'Please come along.' What does that even mean?"

Jane sniffed. "I don't know. The doctors were horrible. I missed you."

"Too many politics to deal with. I did call. They said you were being an ass, so I knew you were all right."

"Meh," he handwaved. "It's all a blur." He propped himself on his elbows and smiled at her. "But I do remember you asking me out."

"That's not what that was." She frowned at her screen before pocketing it. "Of all people to use to effect her escape, why would Hightower choose you?"

He blinked. "Theoretically speaking, I think it makes perfect sense. I'm isolated in the rafters. I don't carry a weapon. And I don't know any of that hand-to-hand combat jive."

"I don't want theories. I want facts. Why would she come to you?"

Jane smiled. "I told you there's no reason to be jealous."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "It's not a date, Jane."

"Call it what you want... We can eat together somewhere nice."

"It's been a long day, you're injured."

"And hungry. And… I still have something to give you. You said—"

She crossed her arms. "So give it to me. You're deflecting. You don't want to talk about Hightower."

"No. I don't. She's in the wind, Lisbon. I couldn't care less, as long as she's not holding a gun to my head. You don't honestly believe... that I had anything to do with Hightower's actions tonight."

Lisbon squirmed. "I don't know what to believe, but when you're in the middle of something... I have reason to doubt." She frowned. "And I like Hightower."

"That was unexpected," Jane mused, then looked up at her softly. "I'm very glad you came to my rescue. Let me take you to dinner."

"Yeah, okay," she exhaled. "I… I'm glad you're safe."

"I just need to check in with LaRoche first. Is he still out commanding the troops?"

"No. He went home for the night."

He stood up and shrugged into his jacket. "A bit of a detour then. I'll be back to pick you up in half an hour."

"You're going over there tonight?"

"I promised the man some scotch."

"It could wait."

"He saved my life."

"Jane. You have a concussion. You shouldn't be driving."

"Lisbon. You all pointed guns at me today. The man held you back." He straightened his collar and started towards the door.

"We weren't going to shoot you. Although, I'm starting to feel the urge," she glared.

He leaned against the door jamb, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have a headache."

"Let me drive you home."

"I have to stop by LaRoche's house. Just for a minute."

"I'll go with you."

"There's no need. You stay here, wrap things up. All that paperwork."

"This once, I think it'll keep." She shrugged. "I'll wait in the car while you talk to him. Come on."

Jane dropped off the bottle of scotch, made some small talk with LaRoche, and left. He checked behind his shoulder to make sure he was alone. At least he'd gotten Lisbon to park around the corner. It had taken some convincing, but she didn't want to make a fuss. Not tonight.

He tiptoed over to LaRoche's carport, relieved the man didn't own a proper garage.

He went straight to the trunk and knocked out a rhythm. It popped open. Madeleine Hightower stared up at him. "Did it really work?" she hissed.

"Of course. I told you, in a manhunt they never check the car of the man in charge." He helped steady her as she climbed out of the trunk. "Did you make arrangements?"

"Talked to my sister. She's waiting for me outside town with my kids."

"You're gonna have to completely vanish. If Red John finds out where you are, he will come after you."

"She has a cabin in Saratoga. We can wait there for months."

"Good. Good. There's only one problem."

"One? Jane, we just navigated past a whole host of problems."

"Yes. But. Lisbon drove me here. She insisted. And I didn't have my phone to make alternate arrangements to get you clear."

"She insisted? Jane, I asked her to come."

His eyes hardened. "Lucky for you, she didn't realize. That was an idiot move, you need to lay low."

"I read through your text chain. You send her vague texts all the time."

"I did not leave you my phone so you could read my business."

"I was stuck in a trunk for hours," she shrugged, unapologetic.

"I don't want her involved. I finally have the advantage. No one else can know—no one. Red John will sense a trap. What are you doing? Don't—"

Hightower had his phone out, tapping at the keys, ignoring him. "Nobody is better off alone. Idiot move."

He grabbed at his phone and she gave it up. The message was sent.

"We need to go." He stated, tight lipped.

"We just going to walk out of here now?" she challenged.

"Jane? What's going on—Agent Hightower," Lisbon breathed.

Jane looked up in exasperation and turned to face her.

She put her hand on her cuffs and demanded, "Explain. Now."

Hightower stepped closer, shaking out her limbs. "Short version. I've been framed. This one thinks it's Red John. I need a ride out of town. We good?"

"I... wow. Yeah. We're good." Her stern glare at Jane implied the opposite was true for her consultant.

Hightower looked between them. "I'll wait in the car."

Jane waited for her to get clear. "I can see that you want to yell at me, Lisbon, but before you do, remember where we-"

"That gun was loaded," Lisbon hissed. "You could have died."

"Her finger wasn't on the trigger," Jane soothed. "We were careful."

"A gun like that, there's no room for error. What were you thinking?"

"I'm fine."

"And you crashed the car. Are you faking the concussion too?"

"You talked to my doctor. He told you—"

"They didn't find anything on the scan. You could have lied about your symptoms. All this talk of your head ringing, you didn't even have your phone, did you? It was Hightower that texted me. She trusted me. Why didn't you?"

"Of course I trust you. This isn't about you."

"Red John."

"Shhh," he hushed her, glancing back towards LaRoche's front door. "He could be in on it. Someone set up Hightower."

"No."

He straightened in indignation. "What do you mean, no?"

"If Red John wanted Hightower dead, LaRoche had opportunity. He diffused the situation, he let her go."

"Ah, but what if Red John doesn't want her dead? Todd Johnson killed her former lover, then Red John had him silenced. What if he needs to know what she knows?"

"Since when did Johnson work for Red John?" Jane's eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. Lisbon sighed. "We'll talk about that later. What does Hightower know?"

"Nothing. Sadly."

"I hate it when you do that! How do I know you're not deflecting again?"

"I'm not," he defended.

"You think you need to protect me. You don't." They stared at each other for a moment, tempers high. "What was the flirting about?"

He cocked his head in confusion at the change of topic. "We kind of flirt all the time."

"You do. But not usually with an audience."

"It was an intense situation. There were a lot of guns waving around, I needed to cut the tension."

"It worked, but only partially. You wouldn't risk angering Hightower if you were really in danger. You know what I think?" she started forward. He hummed in response. "You wanted me to suspect something was going on."

He chuckled. "Way off."

She persisted, tapping his chest. He took one step back and she moved with him, stopping so close she had to look up at him. "Always keep some truth within the lie," she stated, quoting one of his favorite tips. "You wanted to set up a reason for us to get together tonight, and you wanted to tell me what was going on."

"That's enough mentalizing. Do I like to spend time with you? Yes. Don't read too much into it."

"You're the one who insisted we go out, and then tried to run a quick errand first. You had to know I would come along. Do you really have something to give me?"

"Yes," he said..

"Is it with you?"

"Yes."

She held out her hand. "Let's have it."

"Okay," he breathed, digging into his inner jacket pocket. He pulled out a box, the size and shape of a deck of cards, and plopped it into her palm. "There you go. Don't say I never think of you."

She looked down at the little box and furrowed her brow. "Dinosaur Flashcards?" she questioned.

"Every kid goes through a dinosaur phase, Lisbon. I hate to think you've gotten this far in life without being able to recognize a triceratops."

"All of that set up for a box of flashcards? You know I can tell when you're lying to me."

"You never could," he said softly.

When she looked back at him, his eyes were tender. Almost... she gasped. His searched her face, and a flash of panic crossed his expression. Lisbon grabbed his lapels, holding him steady.

"Jane."

He swallowed. "Lisbon?"

"You could have died today."

"I'd like to point out once again, that I did not."

"I'm glad. Jane?" she licked her lips and his eyes darted down at the motion, then dragged back to hers. The panic was still there, but there was also something else. Something primal. "You don't need to protect me."

She closed her eyes, went up on tiptoe, and kissed him.

For a blissful moment her senses lit up as their lips pressed together, full of warmth and promise. He sighed against her, then abruptly pulled away. He gripped her arms firmly, holding her there, and rested his forehead against hers so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"I can't." His breathing came in gasps. "Not yet."

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but she felt the loss keenly. The timing would never be right, not with Red John still out there. "It's okay. I'm sorry."

He shuddered, then pulled back to watch her. "Don't be sorry. Not about this." He tenderly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then caught a threatening tear with his thumb, cupping her cheek. "I'm getting closer. I will catch him."

She brought up her own hand to hold him there. "We will catch him."

The breath caught in her throat. He was open to her—showing his sincerity, hope, and affection. A glimpse of the man he could be. She wanted this so much.

A light came on and they turned towards it together, caught.

"Who's out there?" LaRoche's voice thundered. "I have a gun."

"Please, no more guns," Jane pulled his hand away to shield his eyes.

He stopped short as he recognized them. "Jane? Lisbon? What are you doing here?" He looked between them, no doubt noticing how close they stood. Jane stepped back, wobbling slightly. Lisbon reflexively moved to support him, slipping an arm around his waist.

He leaned into her. "My concussion…" Jane explained. "I'm feeling a little unsteady. Lisbon is my ride."

"Sorry to disturb you," Lisbon added. "I'll get him home."

He spoke sagely. "It was an eventful day. You should take tomorrow off."

Lisbon's mouth dropped open. "Sir, I can't. Hightower—"

"We've got our best people on it, Agent. I know it's fruitless to tell you to stay out of it, but I don't want to see you before noon, if it all."

Lisbon prepared to protest, but Jane's hand tightened on her waist. "That's very generous, J.J.. Thank you."

Lisbon closed her mouth and nodded. They still needed to get Hightower away, they would be out late.

LaRoche smiled at them and stepped back. "It's a nice night." It sounded like a suggestion.

"Yes it is. Thank you, sir."

They watched LaRoche turn and mosey back inside, a spring in his step.

"Did he just wink at us?" Jane asked. "Maybe I did overdo it."

"It'll be fine. Somehow I don't see LaRoche adding to the water cooler gossip." She gave in to her impulses and put her head on his shoulder. He shifted slightly, they fit together perfectly.

"I hope you're right about him."

Lisbon hummed in response. She wanted this moment to last.

Jane's lips pressed against the top of her head. "We need to go."

She pulled away slowly, giving them both time to sort out their thoughts. She refused to let this be awkward. "Thanks for the flashcards."

He grinned. "You're welcome. Maybe I can quiz you later?"

"Sure. You still owe me dinner." She turned towards the car and he fell into step with her, his hand at her back.

"I don't owe you anything. You asked me out."

"Fast food it is."

"No need to punish both of us."

"I already got my gift. I'm hungry."

They bickered all the way to the car, bumping shoulders as they walked.