Chapter Text
The CBI building looked the same as it always did.
The same people rushed through the halls. Phones rang with urgent calls. Someone, somewhere, was buried beneath stacks of paperwork that would probably never see daylight again, but somehow remained essential to keeping justice alive for the people who had sworn to protect it.
Surprisingly, though, justice wasn’t the biggest topic of conversation that week.
Even surrounded by brutal crimes and cold-blooded killers, people still found time for little distractions.
Because they were human.
Not superheroes.
They needed something
Anything
To remind them there was still a world outside the murder scenes. They still laughed. Still teased each other. Still looked for excuses to forget, if only for a few hours.
The event itself wasn’t exactly exciting.
Not at first, anyway.
The truth was simple: the CBI needed money.
That much was obvious. The computers belonged in a museum, the coffee machine broke down at least once a week, and an entire department somehow survived with a single overworked copier.
If raising funds meant agreeing to a few questionable ideas… well, someone had clearly decided it was worth it.
Halloween wasn’t exactly the image the CBI liked to project. Serious investigators weren’t supposed to be surrounded by fake cobwebs and plastic skeletons.
But charity events attracted donations.
And donations increased when wealthy guests were entertained.
Rich people liked extravagance.
They liked spectacle.
Most of all, they liked to laugh.
Patrick Jane called it a circus.
There was an odd hint of nostalgia in his voice when he said it.
Teresa Lisbon called it mandatory.
Which, in her opinion, was much worse.
Rigsby thought the whole thing was hilarious.
Of course he did.
Grace was absolutely delighted, her eyes practically sparkling.
Well… that’s Grace for you.
Cho had a much simpler view.
Show up.
Stay long enough to be polite.
Leave.
And so, Teresa Lisbon’s highly respected team found themselves debating what it would be like to attend the CBI’s very first Halloween charity party.
“Sounds like something out of high school,” Cho remarked evenly.
He was sitting with a book open across his lap, somehow managing to read while effortlessly keeping up with everyone else’s conversation.
Van Pelt smiled without hesitation, clearly entertained by the whole thing.
“Oh, I think it’s fun. It’s not like they’re handing out an award for Best Costume.” She rolled her eyes.
Rigsby fought the urge to agree with Grace.
Truthfully, he thought the idea was a little ridiculous too.
Funny…
But ridiculous.
Or maybe it was just unfamiliar.
“There’s no contest, but we still have to wear costumes.” He finally spoke, already feeling his face warm at the thought. “Isn’t that a bit much?”
Then again…
Seeing Grace in a costume probably wouldn’t help, either.
Not if he wanted to make it through the evening without embarrassing himself.
“I always assumed charity events spared people this kind of public humiliation,” Cho deadpanned, turning another page.
Grace rolled her eyes.
“Oh, come on, Cho.” She laughed. “It’s Halloween. People enjoy this stuff.”
That was when another listener quietly joined the conversation.
A familiar pair of hands carried an equally familiar blue teacup and saucer, steam curling lazily into the air as Patrick Jane wandered over.
“I love watching grown adults find socially acceptable excuses to play pretend,” he said with a mischievous grin before taking his first sip of tea.
“Of course you do,” Lisbon replied without missing a beat. “You say that like you don’t spend half your life staging elaborate cons.”
Jane’s smile widened.
“Touché.”
Lisbon had appeared only a moment after Jane.
Not because she intended to join the conversation, of course.
But she’d sensed it was about to become entertaining.
She would never admit how much she enjoyed these rare moments, when murder, paperwork, and politics faded into the background long enough for her team to argue about something completely meaningless.
Rigsby looked back down at the invitation, reading over the event details one more time.
“It says costumes are mandatory.” He frowned. “Any chance we can skip this, boss?”
The hopeful look on his face suggested he genuinely believed there might be a loophole.
“Unfortunately, no.” Lisbon sighed. “The memo was pretty clear. This event is being sponsored by some very important donors.”
She paused.
“And important donors tend to be demanding. We’re really not in a position to break any more rules.”
“For now,” Jane added casually.
Lisbon shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass.
It wasn’t the least bit intimidating to him.
If anything…
he found it amusing
Grace, as perceptive as she was kind, caught the subtle edge in Lisbon’s voice.
Apparently she wasn’t thrilled about the party either.
From the looks of it, only Grace and Jane were genuinely looking forward to the evening.
“You don’t like Halloween, boss?” Grace asked gently, trying to understand rather than tease.
“No.”
Short.
Simple.
For a brief moment, Lisbon sounded exactly like Cho.
“Not even costumes?”
Grace’s persistence almost earned her a smile.
Almost.
“No.”
No explanation.
Sometimes no was a complete sentence.
Jane tilted his head, studying Lisbon from head to toe with open curiosity.
“So…” he said thoughtfully. “You’re really planning to go dressed as Teresa Lisbon?”
Rigsby nearly choked on his coffee.
Grace immediately looked down, hiding an amused smile.
Jane nodded to himself.
“It’s a remarkably convincing costume.”
“Ha. Ha.” Lisbon rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Jane.”
She was already preparing to walk away before she became the afternoon’s favorite target.
Grace leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
She’d never been the type to give up easily.
“Can I ask why?”
Lisbon shrugged.
Answering the question seemed like the safer option. Otherwise, Jane would undoubtedly invent some elaborate theory about unresolved teenage trauma.
“Because I like knowing exactly what’s going to happen,” she said. “Costumes… surprises… people pretending to be someone they’re not…” She gave a small shake of her head. “It never ends well.”
Jane finally set his teacup down.
Oh, no.
That was never a good sign.
He drew in a slow breath, as if carefully considering his next words.
With Jane, though, that almost never meant caution.
It usually meant he was about to launch into an observation no one had asked for…
…and be completely right about it.
“That explains a lot,” he said.
Lisbon didn’t even look at him.
“Don’t.”
Jane smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself.
She already knew that smile.
It always meant trouble.
“Oh, come on, Lisbon.” He motioned with both hands, just like he had when he’d tried to talk her into that trust fall years ago. “Live a little.”
“I do.”
The answer came too quickly. Too high. The kind of detail Patrick Jane never let slide.
The slight lift in her voice betrayed her before she could stop it.
Damn.
Jane clicked his tongue.
“No, you manage. You spend your whole life trying to keep everything under control.”
“Somebody has to.”
She meant it.
“So…” Jane tilted his head. “How’s that working out for you?”
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Long enough for Jane to know he’d hit something real.
“Maybe that’s exactly the problem,” he replied quickly, before his previous observation had the chance to become something a little too personal.
Lisbon folded her arms and finally met his eyes.
Crossed arms.
Emotional walls, back in place.
Eyes narrowed just enough to challenge him.
Go ahead.
See how far you want to push this.
“And what, exactly, is the problem?” she asked, lifting her chin ever so slightly.
Jane simply held her gaze.
“You never leave room for the unexpected.”
“Because the unexpected usually looks a lot like you.”
That earned a genuine smile.
She always had an answer waiting.
Always.
It delighted him more than he cared to admit.
Lisbon wasn’t nearly as predictable as he liked to claim.
He could predict the scolding.
The eye roll.
Sometimes even the smile she tried so hard to suppress.
But her comebacks?
Those always surprised him.
And somehow, he loved them most.
The sarcasm.
The pushback.
The little battles they fought over absolutely nothing.
The familiar rhythm of it all.
It had become something sacred.
Patrick Jane didn’t believe in God.
But if he did…
He might have prayed that whatever existed between them would never disappear.
The smile lingered for a few more seconds, hidden behind the rim of his teacup.
For once, he was content to simply watch the conversation unfold.
Until Grace suddenly did something that captured everyone’s attention.
She clapped her hands once.
Just once.
It was enough to make everyone at the table—and even a few people passing by—turn to look at her.
“I’ve got an idea!” Grace announced, grinning with the kind of excitement that usually meant trouble. “I think we can make this whole thing a lot more interesting.”
“Oh, so this isn’t interesting enough?” Lisbon asked dryly.
The sarcasm did nothing to discourage her.
Grace pressed on.
“Since we were just talking about the unexpected… instead of everyone choosing their own costume…”
Jane was already smiling before she finished.
“…what if everyone writes down a costume suggestion for someone else? We throw them all into a box, then everyone draws one at random.”
Silence.
Naturally, Rigsby was the first to crack a smile.
He really was that easy.
“I like it.”
The suggestion had barely left Grace’s mouth, and Rigsby was already thinking of the most ridiculous costumes he could come up with.
Cho looked up from his book.
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
Grace beamed.
“Exactly. That’s what makes it fun.”
Lisbon shook her head immediately.
“No.”
Every pair of eyes turned toward her.
“Absolutely not.”
She laughed, but there was unmistakable nervousness behind it.
Grace tilted her head.
“Why not?”
“Because someone is going to come up with something completely ridiculous.”
She said it as though it were self-evident.
Honestly…
It was.
Jane answered before anyone else could.
“That’s the whole point.”
“Jane.”
“Lisbon.”
She let out a slow breath.
“No.”
The odds of leaving her dignity in the hands of chance?
Practically nonexistent.
Jane leaned in just a little.
He had entirely selfish reasons for wanting this to happen.
He wanted to get under Lisbon’s skin.
He wanted to win.
And, if fate happened to smile on him, maybe she’d end up wearing one of his suggestions.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
Somehow, the question sounded both innocent and teasing at the same time.
A remarkable talent.
“I’m not afraid.”
The answer came instantly.
“You are.”
His smile barely changed.
“You need to be in control.”
Lisbon said nothing.
Either way, she’d lose.
If she refused, Jane would take it as proof that he was right.
She wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction.
If she agreed…
She’d be doing exactly what he’d manipulated her into doing.
Bastard.
Jane smiled.
She hadn’t said a word, but he could already read the answer in her eyes.
This round belonged to him.
A clean victory.
Grace seized the opening immediately.
“Please?”
Rigsby joined in.
“Come on, it’ll be funny.”
Even Cho decided to help.
“Statistically speaking, it’ll probably be less embarrassing than you’re imagining.”
Lisbon looked at all four of them.
Then she closed her eyes for a brief second, as if there were even the slightest chance she’d disappear before opening them again.
“…Fine.”
“Yes!” Grace cheered, clapping her hands together.
Jane’s smile only grew.
Oh…
This was going to be interesting.
⸻
It took about five minutes.
Five minutes for five people to fill out five little slips of paper.
Before anyone had put pen to paper, Lisbon had insisted on establishing a few ground rules. She was determined to remind everyone that, despite appearances, they were still at work.
The rules were simple.
Nothing inappropriate.
Nothing offensive.
Nothing humiliating.
For some people, that took all the fun out of it.
But this was still the real world. They were still adults.
Or at least they looked like adults most of the time.
And tomorrow morning they’d all have to face each other with whatever dignity they had left.
For the next few minutes, an unusual silence settled over the bullpen.
Everyone was completely absorbed in their own ideas.
Lisbon thought for a while before writing anything down.
She wanted something practical. Something that would stand out without embarrassing whoever ended up wearing it.
State Sheriff.
Different.
Respectable.
Just eye-catching enough.
She folded the paper immediately and glanced around the room, curious to see everyone else’s expressions.
Across the table, Rigsby was grinning to himself.
Judging by the look on his face, he’d become far too entertained by his own train of thought.
Thanks to his wonderfully nerdy childhood, he came up with what he thought was a brilliant idea.
Clark Kent.
With the Superman suit hidden underneath the business suit.
Classic.
Recognizable.
And, relatively speaking…
Practical.
Cho needed less than ten seconds.
Sherlock Holmes.
It simply made sense.
A brilliant investigator.
Eccentric.
One of his favorite literary characters growing up.
Jane spent a moment watching everyone else before considering his own suggestion.
Even the great Patrick Jane wasn’t immune to being predictable sometimes.
He didn’t want something too obvious.
Nor something completely outlandish.
After a moment’s thought, he wrote a single word.
Ringmaster.
He smiled to himself, folded the paper with exaggerated care, and dropped it into the box.
That left only Grace.
She chewed thoughtfully on the end of her pen.
She wanted something clever.
Something that stayed within Lisbon’s rules…
…while still satisfying her mischievous side.
Her eyes wandered around the bullpen until they landed on something.
She paused.
Then smiled.
No one will see this coming.
She only hoped that particular slip of paper didn’t end up in one very specific pair of hands.
Otherwise…
The whole plan would fall apart.
She had to bite back a laugh before folding her paper and slipping it into the box.
Almost immediately, the mood in the room shifted.
Only slightly.
But enough.
The easy laughter faded, replaced by something much more dangerous.
Anticipation.
Now everything depended on luck.
Or, more accurately…
On Patrick Jane deciding not to cheat.
Jane was already stepping forward to take charge of the drawing when Grace lightly smacked his hand away.
He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, pretending to be wounded.
Grace wasn’t buying it.
Not for a second.
She grabbed the box and gave it an energetic shake.
“All right,” she announced. “Time to draw.”
Then she held the box out toward Jane.
Jane smiled with perfect innocence.
Slowly, he raised both hands, turning them over as though proving his sleeves contained no hidden tricks.
“As you can see…” he said. “No tricks.”
Jane went first.
He unfolded his slip of paper.
A grin spread across his face almost instantly.
“Sherlock Holmes.”
Cho raised an eyebrow.
“Fits.”
That single word was all Jane needed.
He glanced at Cho with a knowing smile.
Of course.
Who else would’ve picked Sherlock Holmes?
Grace was practically vibrating with excitement as she reached for the next slip.
Her enthusiasm was contagious.
Possibly dangerous.
She unfolded the paper.
The moment she read it, her face lit up.
“A ringmaster!”
Her eyes immediately darted to Jane.
He answered with the tiniest, unmistakably proud smile. Grace had figured him out, and he couldn’t have looked more pleased.
They grow up so fast.
Rigsby reached in for the third slip.
He read it quietly.
Then laughed to himself.
“State Sheriff?”
He pictured himself wearing an oversized cowboy hat.
“I’m going to look like the sheriff of a town with a population of three.”
Grace giggled.
“Oh, you’ll pull it off.”
State Sheriff.
Of course.
Practical.
Work-related.
Painfully sensible.
Jane shot Lisbon a look of theatrical disappointment.
She simply shrugged.
Cho took the second-to-last slip.
He unfolded it with deliberate calm.
Read it.
Closed his eyes for exactly one second.
As though silently accepting a cruel and unavoidable fate.
“Clark Kent.”
Rigsby burst out laughing.
“Man… I’d pay to see that.”
“You will,” Cho replied flatly.
He folded the paper again and stared into the distance.
Already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.
Only one slip remained.
Grace buried her laughter as deeply as she possibly could.
If everything had gone the way she hoped…
Lisbon had just drawn her suggestion.
And that alone made the whole game worthwhile.
Lisbon picked up the final piece of paper.
She unfolded it.
Read it.
Then…
Nothing.
For three long seconds
she didn’t move.
Her brain seemed to refuse to process what she was looking at.
Pure alarm flashed across her face.
She tried to hide it.
She really did.
But her eyes had always been far too honest for that.
This is…
This is insane.
Then, just as quickly, the panic disappeared.
Something else took its place.
An idea.
A possibility.
A slow smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
Not embarrassed.
Not horrified.
Mischievous.
Grace tilted her head.
One eyebrow lifted.
“What is it?”
She tried very hard to sound casual.
No one at that table was fooled.
They were detectives.
Every single one of them already knew Grace had written the mystery costume.
But only Grace and Lisbon knew what was actually on the paper.
For now.
Without a word, Lisbon folded the slip with almost exaggerated care and tucked it into the pocket of her slacks.
“Nothing.”
Jane watched every tiny movement.
Nothing escaped him.
Least of all…
That smile.
“What did you get?” he asked.
For perhaps the first time that day, Patrick Jane sounded genuinely curious.
Lisbon looked almost unbearably pleased with herself.
Finally.
In the history of the CBI…
In the history of whatever unique friendship existed between the two of them…
She was seven steps ahead of Patrick Jane.
“You’ll find out at the party.” she said, clearly having the time of her life keeping him guessing.
Jane smiled.
Not because he’d gotten an answer.
But because, at long last, Lisbon seemed genuinely interested in the game.
And for the first time that day…
Patrick Jane had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.