Work Text:
Getting Jane to reveal genuine personal information is like pulling teeth, so what Lisbon does know is hard earned.
She knows a few things. He's secretly insecure about his height, even though he's not all that short. He's got an aversion to the dark. He won't sleep in a bed besides his old mattress, so to get him to sleep, one must use loopholes. He knows a lot of coin tricks, he's excellent at identifying smells, his father was a carnie, he's good with children and reckless with his safety. Some days he eats everything in sight, and others he only drinks plain tea. And, the newest fact: He likes to have his hair petted.
That's where they are, on the couch, his head in her lap and her hand thoroughly in his hair. It's soft. She supposes that shouldn't be a surprise, but she'd never really imagined doing this, hadn't expected Jane to allow anyone close to his person this way, much less to want it as much as he does. She feels powerful, being allowed. It's sort of an honor to be the one that gets to see behind Jane's defenses, even if it's only in these moments.
It's become a thing. At first it had only been occasional, when one of them was having a bad day and they happened to be in the breakroom or her office at the same time, and they would share a look before silently sitting together, Jane's head in her lap as she worked. Since then, it's progressed to him sitting in her lap, or curled up against her side, or vice versa.
It's not just her, either. He's always been more tactile with the team than with anyone else, though lately it's been even more so, to the point of social oddity. But what is Jane if not socially odd?
-
Jane yawns, coming into the office in the early morning and stepping around Rigsby's desk.
"Good morning," he says, rubbing his cheek against Rigsbys. Lisbon stares, waiting for Rigsby to put on that startled puppy dog expression he has when something new is happening and he can't cope.
It must not be as new as she thought, because Rigsby doesn't even blink, only ruffles Jane's hair and grunts into his coffee. Jane pushes into the touch and smiles big and pretty, before walking off to question a suspect.
-
When she comes back from lunch, Jane is sitting behind Van Pelt, arms draped around her shoulders as they stare at the computer screen.
"What's this?" asks Lisbon, gesturing at their whole… thing.
"She's showing me how to use the computer database," says Jane. Van Pelt goes bright red and nods.
"Right," says Lisbon, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "Make sure you finish up within the hour, Hightower is coming by at 2."
They both nod in understanding.
-
Jane, in typical fashion, runs off during a case. This time, he's managed not only to lose their evidence, but to injure his hand. The consequence of this is that everyone is hovering.
"The butler is innocent," says Jane, and he takes the last sip of his milkshake. He hails the waiter with his good hand. "Can I get another one of these?"
Jane nudges Cho. Cho lifts a bite from his fork and feeds it to him.
Lisbon rolls her eyes. "Don't baby him," she says. "His other hand works just fine, he could've ordered his own."
"Yeah, but I don't want my own food, I want Cho's food."
"And how does Cho feel about that?"
"I'm an enthusiastic participant," Cho deadpans.
Jane winces, and Lisbon turns sharply. "You okay? I'll go get your pain meds." She stands. "Do you want anything while I'm up?"
"Can you ask them if they have chamomile?"
When she comes back to the table, chamomile and pain meds in hand, and another milkshake on the table, Rigsby and Van Pelt are snickering.
"Something funny?"
"No, boss," says Rigsby. "Just... Who's babying?"
She rolls her eyes. Cho feeds him the rest of his meal, bite by bite, and she doesn't say anything.
-
The body is gruesome. Earlier into her career, she'd have gagged. As it is, she only sighs sadly at the prospect of collecting evidence from such a decomposed subject
The family must be devastated. They won't even have anything to bury.
Jane and Van Pelt still gag at these kinds of crime scenes. Van Pelt, because she's less experienced, and Jane, because he's just sensitive to that kind of thing. Even if he's better at hiding it, he needs comfort and assurance. She touches his shoulder.
"Alright?" She asks.
Jane nods, but still looks green around the gills. He fumbles for her hand, but she shoots him a look.
"Jane, behave, it's a crime scene," she says.
Jane has the nerve to look affronted, and reaches to his other side, where Rigsby holds his hand immediately. Great, now Rigsy is giving her a look too, like she's some kind of monster for not holding Jane's hand at his beck and call.
And Van Pelt is on the other side of Rigsby, holding his other hand.
"Guys. Crime scene first, holding hands later," she hisses. "C'mon. Let go."
They reluctantly let go, and get on with their work.
(She holds Jane's hand for the entire drive back.)