It was like any other day. Teresa Lisbon sat formally at her desk in the California Bureau of Investigation's office building. She sighed low and thrummed her thin fingers against the wooden table.
Patrick Jane bent forward slightly, careful not to bend his knees and looked down at the ground.
"Jane. What are you doing?" Lisbon questioned while looking over at him, breathing out quietly and rolling her eyes.
He didn't look over at her. Instead, he turned his head in the other direction from where she was sitting and slipped his hands behind his back, entwining his fingers.
"Seriously. Come on…" She pulled her eyebrows together and stepped over to him.
Finally, he pulled his glance over to her with a smile stretched across his face. He lifted up one of his arms, outstretched it over to the table where Rigsby sat working on a file, and pointed underneath it.
Rigsby looked up from his work and eyed Jane vigilantly.
He looked to where he pointed and smiled wider. "Look."
"Yes, that is Rigsby," Lisbon crossed her arms.
"No. Underneath him," Jane slowly lowered to his hands and knees.
She pulled her eyebrows together and unsuccessfully saw what was underneath him.
Rigsby tried to look as well, but just like Lisbon, he saw nothing.
Jane slowly crept up to the table and then crawled underneath it. He rummaged for a second before sliding back out on his knees. Leaning back, he sat back on his heels and smiled, looking up at Lisbon. "It's a mouse."
"A mouse?" Rigsby jumped out of seat and skidded back, horror suddenly splotched across his face.
Lisbon blinked; uncrossing her arms and instead, put her hands on her hips.
Jane chuckled and looked back to the table. "It's been here for awhile –" Lisbon interrupted him.
"And you haven't said anything?" She looked irritated.
He cocked his head to the side. "It's dead."
She opened her mouth to shoot a comment at him, but then stopped herself. "Oh."
Jane looked over to Rigsby with a dim smile on his face, "You're fine."
"Yeah…I just…hate mice," he quaked in reply.
Leisurely standing up, Jane cleared his throat and slid his hands into his pockets.
"Thank you," Lisbon gave him a deride smile and flip her phone out of her jacket's bottom pocket.
Jane ambled over to the small couch against the wall and sat down on the cushioning, putting his hands in his lap.
Rigsby shuddered again. "Mice are evil."
"Ah, but they mean no harm," Jane pointed out.
"Doesn't change the fact that they're still evil."
He chuckled and rocked his legs up onto the couch and lay back, slipping his hands behind his head. He slithered a few of his fingers into his scruffy, blond hair.
Lisbon had already dialed a number, spoke on the phone and when she hung up, she announced, "Rigsby, get the mouse out of here."
Rigsby's eyes broadened. "Why me?"
She sneered, jokingly. "It's under your desk."
He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.
Jane turned his head to look over at the two of them. He observed Rigsby and watched as he got a plastic bag and bent down under his desk to get the mouse. Amused, he closed an eye and couldn't help but grin from his horrid expression.
Lisbon shook her head making her thick, brown hair bounce lightly. She stepped back over to her own desk and situated her elbows on top of it, shoving her head into her hands.
Jane looked above the couch over to her, still with only one eye open. He took his hands out of his hair and enfolded them around his torso.
She moved until her cheek was cupped in her hand and she could see him clearly. Raising an eyebrow, she blinked.