The Greybar Hotel was incredible! Don't read this tag if you have not yet watched the episode, because this story is chock full of spoilers. I couldn't help myself. The episode was Soooo good it made me wish that the Mentalist was mine. But of course it is not. Still, enjoying the show is worth more than the money one could earn from it. If one did make money from it. I don't.

All of you who are doing tags on this one, I made a point not to read other tags until mine was posted. But I promise that I will.

Walking Wounded

As Abbott and the rest of the team cleared the perpetrators from the scene, Teresa Lisbon stood nursing the drink Patrick had given her. She couldn't really taste it. Maybe that was a good thing. The fluid was in a plastic bottle, tinted blue. It was lukewarm, which felt strange because her fingers-indeed, her whole body-seemed cold. She didn't ask where it had come from. Holding the bottle gave her a barrier against the outside world, and the liquid felt good running down her throat.

Though her body felt numb, her heart was still racing. It had been a very close call. Actually several close calls. She had ridden waves of emotion from terror to relief and back again, over and over in the past few hours. The worst part was remembering Patrick's face as he apologized for not having a better rescue plan. He had done all he could to protect her, and she was sure he was facing his death still blaming himself for hers. But he had managed to save them both anyway, by leading Abbott and the others here. Now he stood just a bit too close to appear like just a colleague, and it didn't feel close enough. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and cling tightly.

But members of their FBI unit were still milling about. Keeping their private life private for now had been her idea. Patrick had agreed readily enough. She had a good guess as to why. If the strength of her feelings for him was still so overwhelming for her, what must it be like for him? They were quite the pair, alright. Almost as much in fear as they were in love.

She felt herself shaking, hating her weakness. This would be hard enough for him without the burden of seeing her distress. Not meeting his eyes, she tried to make light of her physical reactions. "Someday you'll have to teach me that biofeedback stuff. So nobody sees when I get freaked out after things like this."

A short, quiet bark of laughter drew her eyes to his face, wet with sweat, reddened eyes fixed on her face. He clasped her trembling hand with his own. "I always thought you were a natural. So cool in a crisis. You're the only one I know who could be giving me tips." And then his smile broke, and he touched his forhead to hers, his voice a tremulous whisper. "It just doesn't always work when we need it most."

"Shhh..." Soothing him came easily. She felt herself warming and calming as she ran a hand from his shoulder down the length of his arm. "When it counted you were brilliant, as usual. When you faced down Cole, even I almost believed you had snipers set up. When he shot out that mirror, I was afraid Cho would fall out of the tree."

Patrick's watery chuckle threatened sobs, and Teresa pulled back just enough to give him a once-over. He resisted the movement, clutching her arms. Teresa was almost pleased to know that he needed her physical comfort as badly as she needed his. "You okay?" She was surprised when he slowly shook his head.

"Not yet." Teresa felt her brow furrowing. Patrick hated to show weakness. He had to be pretty bad off to admit that the stress of this case had made a lasting impact on his well-being.

"Jane!" The sound of Abbott's voice calling across the clearing made both of them jump.

"Yeah?" He called back, his voice steadier this time. Teresa smiled. It was nice to see that he could still hold himself together to present his usual confidence for the rest of the world. And sweeter yet that he wasn't trying to put up a bold face for her.

"How is Lisbon holding up? Any injuries?" The supervising agent's voice rang with concern, but it was officious enough that the other remaining agents didn't seem unduly interested.

Jane's face clouded over again, and as he took a breath to say that she seemed fine, Lisbon called out, "I think I may have twisted my ankle."

Jane blinked and looked at her with surprise. She winked at him as Abbott crossed towards them in a few brisk strides and gave her an assessing look, and then a wry smile. "Jane, can you see that Agent Lisbon gets whatever medical attention is necessary? Cho and I can handle it from here." Still in that firm, official voice that he used for general instructions. Louder than necessary, given how close he stood to them. Then, in a quieter voice, "Good work, both of you. Get some rest, take care of each other. Debriefing can wait while we wrap everything up. I'll only call when we really need you. Take the time you need to recover."

And he moved on before Lisbon could voice her thanks.

Glancing back at Patrick, she was pleased to see his eyes crinkling with the force of his grin. "You heard the man, Lisbon," he announced heartily, "I'd better get you the care you need, right away." And he swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the car.

Lisbon rolled her eyes. She could hardly tell him that she could walk just fine when she had just announced a phony ankle injury. Perhaps this was undignified, maybe it made her look weak, and very likely people would talk. But at that moment, she couldn't make herself care. Being held and cared for just felt good.

Let them think what they want to think.