"Come on Lisbon, keep the emeralds."

Jane had gone to her hotel room, one hand in his pocket, the emerald necklace dangling from the index finger of his other hand.

"I can't," she told him, hands on her hips, wishing she had more on than just her pyjamas.

"I know you want to," he said grinning, "Van Pelt certainly does, and the guys are keeping their watches."

"I could order them to give them back."

"But you won't."

"No," she said with a sigh.

"But you won't take the emeralds back either."


She tilted her head to one side, he may be the mentalist, the ultra observant of the two, but she hadn't gotten where she was without a degree of intelligent observation herself. Which was one of the things she hated most about Jane, he made her look and feel stupid.

"You knew I wouldn't take them," she started.

"I wanted to try at least," he cut in and she continued, ignoring him.

"Why did you come here and ask if you knew I wouldn't take them?"

"I wasn't sure?"

She laughed then, arms dropping from her hips, and he smiled too. He was always so damn sure, another thing she hated about him. The certainty of the man.

"Van Pelt won't accept her rubies until you take the emeralds and I really want you both to have the sets," he said, still smiling. She sighed.

"You knew that, and knew it wouldn't be enough to sway me so..." she said, "what's really going on?"

His face changed, smile changing a little and she was getting close to a truth. She'd figured out a lot of things about Patrick Jane, and while he smiled, always smiled, he had minute differences for each situation.

This little smile was new, different to his other facial expression but she was certain it meant she was about to get a little truth from him.

For once.

Normally he made her work harder for honesty, so she braced herself.

He looked up and down the corridor outside her room, then his eyes raked down her body and up again, that same sweet Jane smile plastered on his face. If he didn't say something soon, she was going to slap him.

Another thing she hated about him, she only seemed to resort to violence around him.

He leaned in close, shoving the emerald necklace back into his pocket. She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears on instinct, ready for his big secret, swallowing hard.

She always hated when Jane got into her personal space, and he was practically pressed up against her.

"They really do go nicely with your eyes Teresa," he whispered in her ear, breath blowing gently over her skin, before he pulled away in one quick fluid movement and walked down the corridor to his own room.

She stood in the open doorway, shocked as if he had told her something new, something huge and she hated that about him too, this ability to leave her stunned without doing anything.

She ran a hand up her neck, where the necklace had rested, up to the ear he'd whispered into, rubbing the tingles from it.

She hated him.

Hated his certainty, the way he did things, hated that he'd bought her emeralds that matched her eyes so perfectly, and hated that she couldn't keep them.

Hated him.

Oh who I am kidding, she thought to herself, finally closing the door to her room, knowing she was in for more dreams about Patrick Jane.

She didn't hate that at all.