Meant to be light-hearted and fun (perhaps even funny at points?). Will likely have serious moments scattered here and there. Probably at least a bit OOC, but the situation ("off the wall" as Kathi-Ann described it) is taking the characters places they've not been before. O_o. (by the way, that was a bewildered face, not a creepy one)
I don't own them. Also, I will try to update as often as possible, but school is a bit insane. Just a bit of prior warning.
Chapter One: Sneaking
Patrick Jane headed gleefully to his boss' desk, preparing to thoroughly sift through the many documents and insight-bearing objects on it. Lisbon was stuck in a meeting all morning. And he planned to take advantage of it.
As her blinds were shut, he doubted that the rest of the team even knew he was in there. He could be the Master of Stealth. The King of Quiet. The Emperor of Silence. The Czar of Inconspicuousness. The…the…
Yup. That was it. Point was: the team was clueless. Just how he liked it.
Careful to catalogue everything's place inside his mind, he moved paper after paper, hoping for a diamond in the rock. As it were.
Case file. Boring.
Formal complaint against consultant. Eh, he had hardly insulted the man. Meh. People had such thin skin nowadays…
Order form for paper clips. Seriously?
Forma—okay. Really? Didn't people have anything better to do with their time? Jane rolled his eyes. If these people had good, semi-productive lives, they wouldn't bother filing these complaints. Of course, if that was the case it was likely that Jane never would have bothered with insulting them in the first place. So, really, he supposed these delicate situations were (logically) their own fault. Moving on…
As a rule of thumb, Jane didn't allow the small, negative things in his 'missions' to get him down, but this was rather disappointing. Didn't Lisbon have a life outside of work? Something perhaps scandalous? He checked himself, coming back down to reality. Okay, not scandalous. This was Lisbon. Maybe just unexpected. Yes. Unexpected.
That was one of the things he lo—enjoyed about her. Her ability to surprise him, to keep a sort of mysterious quality about her. Sure, he knew her personality and much about her life, but there were these annoying blank spaces in his mental picture of her. And Jane had always hated blank spaces.
His pictures had always been the most colorful in elementary school.
Coming back to the task at hand, he glanced at his watch. He sighed and started shuffling the papers back into position. He needed to be out on the couch dozing in relative laziness by the time Lisbon returned.
Putting the last paper in place, he stood. A small corner of white on the floor near his feet caught his eye. Stooping, he picked up the paper (from yet another mundane case file). His brow furrowed. Was this on the floor when he got in or did it come from the desk?
It was rare that Patrick Jane was torn, captured with indecision.
Well, except that time when he had to shoot the sheriff to save Lisbon. And those strange urges he had at the last office Christmas party with Lisbon looking all happy and plied with that eggnog that someone had spiked. Or there was that time when Lisbon had been undercover as a hot young thing (and she pulled it off better than well) who preyed on rich men. Or the trust fall. Or the time she had fallen asleep in the passenger seat of his car and the soft sound of her breathing in and out had begun to drive him crazy…
Okay, okay. The point was: he was torn. Put the paper back on the floor and hope it had been there when Lisbon had left her office or insert it into the mass of things on her desk?
Floor? He looked down.
Desk? He eyed the full surface.
Recalling Lisbon's claim of knowing where everything was at every moment and her obsessive need for order, Jane decreed that the paper had likely been on the desk. So…desk, it was.
Now, all that was left was to strategically place it somewhere in a manner akin to Lisbon's style of "filing." Lifting a rather hefty-looking pile, he began to slide the lone sheet in. His eyes idly skimmed the words of the sheet he was about to cover. He froze.
Normally, Jane was much more eloquent in his expressions. But some situations were so shocking that certain terms seemed necessary.
This was one of them.
Lisbon's desk held an information packet and a response to Lisbon's apparent letter of interest.
For artificial insemination.
Jane was pretty sure that if he were less masculine, he may have fainted from the shock. As it was, he felt the strong need for something sweet to even out his blood sugar level, to help him recover from the surprise.
He couldn't believe that Lisbon was doing something (considering doing something, he amended) so life-changing and he had missed it.
Where in hell were those highly refined observational skills when it mattered?!?
Hastily, he put the paper down. He took a step away from her desk, still trying to compute this new information. He shook his head. He had to get a hold of himself. Lisbon would be returning soon.
Time to revert back to the original plan. Couch. Doze. Lazy.
He could use the time to ponder a pregnant Lisbon. That thought sent him off once more with the only applicable response: