White Rose

Chapter 1: Jane's POV

A/N: Unfortunately I don't own the mentalist or the fabulous Robin Tunney and Simon Baker. I do, however, own total rights to this story. Be sure to review!

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"Look at me when I'm talking to you." She ordered.

I reluctantly raised my eyes to meet hers. I hated when she was angry with me.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" She asked sternly, "Do you understand that when you go into hostile situations without my or the bureau's knowledge you are putting yourself and everyone else in danger, including me?"

"I'm sorry Teresa, it won't happen again." I really wished she wasn't mad at me.

"If you don't stop this Jane, Abbott will have your head." She stated and turned to exit the conference room.

"Goodbye Teresa, nice talking to you." I stifled a wave.

Those pants really accentuated her ass. 'Stop it.' I scolded myself, 'I can't think about her like that, we are coworkers and she is one of my only and best friends.'

"Hey Jane," Abbott interrupted my pity session, "can I talk to you?"

"Lisbon already did. Danger, danger, don't be stupid, hostility, Halloween, blah, blah, blah."

"Halloween?"

"She said you'd have my head," I explained, "it's a little early to be planning costumes don't you think?" I joked.

"I guess." Abbott replied with a chuckle.

"I have to go Dennis, nice chat." I said and shuffled out of the room before finding Lisbon at her desk. She was doing paperwork, her long, dark hair hanging over the desk.

"What." She stated without looking up. She was still upset.

"Want to grab a coffee?" I asked nicely.

"What do you want?" She questioned this time.

"Can't two friends grabs coffee without an ulterior motive?" I asked and leaned against her desk.

"You always have an ulterior motive, Jane." She grinned without looking up, thinking I didn't notice.

"Not true." I defended, however this time it was.

"Fine." She groaned and pushed herself up from the desk.

Together we walked to the kitchenette and I poured her a coffee, black as usual.

"So," I began, "I have a date tonight, well had, she cancelled." I hoped she couldn't tell I was lying.

"I made those reservations over two months ago and I would hate to waste them. I'll see you at six, dress well."

"What?" She choked after spitting her mouthful of coffee back into the mug, disbelief in her voice, "Patrick Jane doesn't date."

"You're right," I grinned, "she cancelled."

"I don't date." She countered, "Especially men like you."

"Like me?" I tried to sound offended, "What's wrong with me?"

"You're stubborn, arrogant, and annoying." She said, dumping her coffee and pouring another cup.

"Well, uhm, I don't date women like you." I replied weakly.

"What about me?" She asked sarcastically. I really hoped this would play to my advantage.

"You're bossy and threaten to shoot me on a daily basis."

She glared at me. How could she even make something like that look sexy?

"So six o'clock it is. I'll pick you up then, my dear." I said, basking in my victory and walking away before she had the chance to argue.