The habit of sneaking into other people's kitchen in order to brew himself a cup of tea was one he would never lose. And this time he was sure he would find the brand of tea he preferred.
He smiled. He still remembered the occasion on which Lisbon had bought it, a few months ago.
It was one of the first times he slept in her apartment, after Red John's arrest. Actually that evening it was Rigsby who was supposed to host him, yet he had somewhat obscurely excused himself – a date with Van Pelt was the real reason, of course.
Lisbon had dragged him into the nearest shop, where she had bought the things she needed to survive another evening with him – the second in barely three days: ice cream, popcorn, strawberries, and Jane's favorite tea. The puzzled glance the shopkeeper offered them nearly made him burst into laughter – and that was the first time he really felt like laughing, after Red John had been caught.
Things had remarkably changed from that day.
He had thought he would hate her for robbing him of his revenge. He had thought he would never fall in love again, after Angela and Charlotte. Well, he had been wrong. And – just for this once – he was only too willing to admit it.
How could he hate Lisbon, considering all she had done for him? Including the fact that she kept him from killing Red John, actually.
It hadn't been just about law and justice. She had done it in order to protect him. And, in a way, he felt grateful for that.
All things considered, he had had his vengeance. Red John was no more. End of story.
Letting go of Angela and Charlotte had been a bit more difficult. Through all of those years, their memory had gotten entangled with pain and guilt. He had loved them, and failed them. He couldn't betray them once again.
It was just a couple of days before that he finally bid them farewell. He went to the cemetery – a bunch of white roses for Angela, and daisies for Charlotte – and spoke to them quietly. He promised he would never forget them. He promised that – this time – he wouldn't make the same mistakes again.
It was his cellphone ringing that broke off his musings.
"Hi, darling. Who'd have thought you were going to miss me so soon?", he joked affectionately.
"Jane, I sent you to fetch my clothes more than an hour ago. I thought you could manage that. What on Earth are you doing, poking about in my apartment?"
He laughed. Before he left the hospital, Lisbon had made him promise not to snoop around her things – and yet her tone clearly said she actually didn't mind.
"You'll be amazed to hear that I did nothing of the kind. I was just… thinking, you know? And having a cup of tea, of course".
"What were you thinking about?"
"Hum… things, I suppose".
"Patrick, is it all okay?", she inquired – a hint of concern in her voice.
"Come on, Teresa. Thinking isn't usually labeled as a dangerous activity".
"Except when you are doing it".
"That's not fair, Lisbon".
"Jane, if you don't bring me my clothes, how could I leave the hospital? I'm sick and tired of being here".
"Give me ten minutes and I'll be there".
"It takes twenty minutes from my apartment to the hospital".
"I can be there in just ten minutes, I assure you".
"Honestly I think I'd rather have you safe and sound. And without being fined for speeding, if possible".
"All right. Let's make it a quarter of an hour, then".
"Jane…"
"See you later", he quickly cut her off.
He grabbed the bag he had prepared before and went out. He simply couldn't wait to see Teresa at home again.