Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Mentalist or make any money from this. Although that would be a totally awesome way to make a living!

Author's Note: There are already so many great tags for Nothing But Blue Skies out there, it was hard to find an original angle. I hope I've succeeded!

When Pike asked me if I had a plan, the question didn't make sense to me. Of course I have a plan. I have a lot of plans, most of which have contingency plans. I'm constantly planning. I've had probably twenty or thirty today alone.

But a plan for Lisbon? A roadmap for her life? No, of course not. Why would I?

Lisbon hates it when I make plans for her, generally speaking. And on our first case back together, on the flight back to New York, she let me know she didn't appreciate me trying to direct her life. I tried to stop. I maybe went a little too far with that, refusing to weigh in even when she asked for my input, but I'd never tried to back off from arranging things for someone I cared about before.

If Charlotte had grown up, I would have struggled with that then, too, letting her make her own choices even if I didn't like them. At least Lisbon did something healthy, trying to break her old pattern and go for what she wanted.

Lying in bed beside her, listening to her deep, even breathing, I reflect on all the changes we're making for each other. This is still so new, and we're finding our way carefully, mindful of each other's scars. This is both the easiest and hardest thing I've ever done. It's wonderful and liberating to let these feelings out and stop hiding from her, but it's difficult and even painful to let her see so much of me after wearing a mask for so long. She knows she doesn't have to hide anything from me since I already know almost all her secrets, but I still have so many from her. And though she has forgiven my many serious sins, there's part of me that worries she won't like what she finds.

So I fill our days with little treats. Making her smile was the goal of exactly seven different plans today alone, some more elaborate than others. Though she enjoyed the origami swan just as much as the antique car, so the payoff isn't necessarily determined by the effort, time, and money expended. I enjoyed the car as much as she did, but it told her I was paying attention to her, and that was the most important thing.

After years of neglect, abandonment, and manipulation, I have a lot to make up for. I have to prove to Lisbon that she can count on me, that I won't ignore her needs or desires, that I won't make unilateral decisions in our personal life.

Pike had the luxury of handing her a blueprint for a traditional life. I'm still writing apology notes. I have to fix the past before I can think about our future.

And I'm not so sure Lisbon really wanted the cookie cutter life Pike offered her. But I do know I won't be building castles in the air and expecting her to furnish them. I don't want her to accept an offer; I want us to draw up the plans together.

I already had my dream life, and I lost it. This is the bonus round, my undeserved second chance. And it's going to be what Lisbon wants. Her happiness is my goal.

That's what I have to offer her.

I don't have a plan, but I have plans. I plan to sleep beside her every night. I plan to cook her a proper breakfast every morning when we're not rousted out of bed at an ungodly hour to go see a dead body. I plan to honor her wishes about keeping her private life private. I plan to make love to her with my body every chance I get and with my eyes the rest of the time. I plan to keep sprinkling little thoughtful surprises through her days to make her smile.

And for everything else, I plan to let her make the plans. She's already offered me the key to her house; soon I'll be living here full time without us ever having talked about it, because it feels right. There will come a time when all our coworkers have figured out the big secret and she'll be okay with us going public. I'll give her little gifts, modest jewelry she won't hesitate to wear, and one day it'll feel right to give her a ring to show my commitment. And she'll wear it to show hers. We'll start talking about how we'll get married, bypassing the question of if we will because we're confident neither of us is going anywhere. Everything will be exactly how she wants it.

I roll onto my side to look at her peacefully sleeping, her lips curved in a small smile. She is beautiful, my own personal work of art. But better than that, she is loving. And now that her love is returned, she is stunning in her happiness.

I draw a fingertip across her cheek, and she smiles and mumbles something I choose to believe is my first name. I smile involuntarily, my love for her driving all other thoughts and emotions out of me, and plant a kiss on her soft cheek.

I plan to kiss her awake in a few hours. And until then, I plan to rest beside her and remember what a lucky man I am to be here.

That, I decide with a yawn, is my best plan yet.