She couldn't believe what had happened, couldn't believe that Jane had been right. That Julian Birch had been a psycho who kidnapped women as surrogates for his dead fiancée, petite short haired brunettes, with blue eyes. The fiancée's name had been Sarah, and that's what he'd called her, when he had finished making Teresa Lisbon, Sarah Adler, her long dark locks cut into a short do, and dyed a lighter brown, and the final touch was the blue contacts and Sarah's green dress. He hadn't gotten far enough as to rape or kill her, Jane figured it all out before Birch could even make her cook his favourite meal.

She hated to admit it but she liked the short hair, long it was only slightly the wavy-curly locks she'd had as a teen, but short the waves and curls were all there, not to mention the dye job, for some unfathomable reason, the lighter brown was only slightly off from the natural colour she always dyed dark. She knew she should hate it, but she just didn't.

Two cases had gone by, and to her surprise Jane was being good. He hadn't bothered her or taunted, victim's family, or suspects, he had just asked questions, and made very accurate observations. The last case was the one that had gotten to her; it wasn't Red John, but something much closer to home. A fourteen year old girl named Robyn Bailey with three younger brothers, their mother was killed in a car accident when she was twelve, and their father drank himself into unconsciousness, only after going after the boys in a drunken rage, one brother, Timothy, was in the hospital with a broken arm and some cracked ribs. Robyn had some bruises on her face as well as her arms and upper torso, the father was arrested for the beatings and for murdering a man in one of his drunken rages.

Exactly like what happened to me, Robyn even looks like me, long brown hair smartly kept up in tight French Braids, petite, hazel eyes, and freckles that she tries to hide. Just like me... She thought. They were lucky to find an aunt and uncle happy to take the kids. She replayed the farewell in her head:

. Back.:.

"Agent Lisbon?" Robyn had strayed away from her aunt, uncle and brothers, and stood in front of Lisbon.

"Hey Robyn, what do you think of your aunt and uncle?" She asked, remembering how she had personally made sure they were good people,

"I like them, Natasha said I can have my own room, and that the two oldest get a room to themselves. I'm worried though..." she trailed off glancing back at her little brother though the glass window,

"What's worrying you?" Lisbon offered Robyn a seat next to her on a bench and she sat down,

"I, well I know the Natasha and Will won't hurt us, but, I find myself, tensing up, or flinching whenever they want to, put a comforting hand on my shoulder, or give me a hug, and I don't want to do that, I know I just met them but I know I can trust them but I keep tensing up, and I see the boys do it too..." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, Lisbon slowly put her hand on Robyn's, she didn't flinch, she just turned her hand over and held it,

"It'll pass, you're body is reacting to what it thinks is a blow, and you know it's not, but that's what the body does, it's an instinct, like blinking, there's a loud noise and your eyes will automatically shut, like protection. You can't train your eyes not to do it, but you after you've been with them for a while you won't flinch." Lisbon squeezed her hand; she saw understanding and some confusion in Robyn's eyes,

"How do you know what it'll be like?" She asked, not defensively but cautiously,

"Robyn, I know you might think, how on earth could anyone know how I feel. But I can tell you, I honestly know. What you've gone through I went through it too. Exactly." She confided, Robyn listened then wrapped her arms around Lisbon in a hug. Lisbon hugged her back for a moment,

"My mum died too, my dad drank, I have three little brothers, and I took care of them, your Timmy, is my Tommy, strange huh?" Lisbon smiled, at Robyn's expression of surprise,

"Did, Tommy come to sleep in your bed with you?" She asked and Lisbon nodded,

"That's really weird...but it's comforting, too..." Robyn smiled, Lisbon, reached into her bag, and pulled out a card, she wrote something on it and passed it to Robyn, she read it,

"If you ever need anything, call or e-mail me, okay?" Robyn nodded,

"?" Robyn couldn't help giggling, Lisbon laughed too,

"My nick name was Reces-Peices when I was little, and one of my brothers was sure that nobody would hack me if I had an unlucky number in my e-mail address." Lisbon explained, laughing along with Robyn,

"I like it, I've always been Red-Robyn to my brothers," she said, glancing back to her brother's room,

"Go on, he needs you," Lisbon, put a comforting hand on Robyn's arm, to her surprise Robyn hugged her again,

"Thank you, agent Li-"

"Call me Teresa," she said,

"Thank you, Teresa," Robyn said and waved when she got to the door of her brother's room.

. Flashback.:.

Why did it always happen to the people who didn't deserve it? Why had the truck driver made sure his cargo had been secure? Why did Robyn and her brothers have to be in a foster home waiting for a foster home that would take all four of them? Why did there have to be another trauma, for them?

Lisbon sat head in hands on her sofa, after reading the heart wrenching e-mail Robyn had sent her about the accident, and her aunt and uncle's death, and the orphanage she and her brother's were stuck in before they could be placed in a foster home, hopefully for the four of them, but most likely separately. They didn't deserve to have this happen, and now she was remembering the times when her dad had gone after her and her brothers...She hadn't realized she'd been crying until she felt his hand on her back, and start to slowly rub up and down, a comfort...

~~

He knew the case had come close to home for her, an alcoholic, and abusive father, mother dead, and three little brothers to take care of. She was seeing herself in the girl, Robyn, seeing her life, and her little brother, Thomas, in the injured boy Timothy, and feeling the anger towards their father just like she did for her own father. And now with their aunt and uncle dead, they would get separated. He knew she was upset, she had been in her office for over an hour now, and he'd been watching her for twenty minutes, she was crying. And it wasn't just about the girl and her brothers. Her tears were most likely the built up flood gate she'd made since Julian Birch kidnapped her. He needed to comfort her, he wanted to make her feel better, the beautiful Saint Teresa was broken and he wanted to see her smile. The guilt of what he wanted to do weighed on his shoulders, he was torn. Isabelle was his wife, Lily was his daughter, and they were his family...how many years had it been? He couldn't remember. But he knew one thing; he hadn't wanted to be with another woman since the night his Angel and Water-Lily were taken so brutally away from him. He walked into Lisbon's office quietly, and sat down on the couch next to her, he gently rubbed her back soothingly, just like when Lily was sad... he'd surprised her, he knew but she seemed comforted none the less.

"What's the matter?" he asked after a few minutes, she sniffed and wiped her eyes,

"She didn't deserve this, she'd barely gotten to know them, and they were taken away from her like that, and now they're going to be separated, it's not fair..." she wiped her eyes again, and Jane didn't stop rubbing her back,

"Is that all?" he asked, tracing random patterns around her back, she looked down,

"You can tell me..." he said, she shuddered,

"Birch." She said quietly, and Jane leaned forward,

"What about him?" He asked, she met his gaze,

"I wish I didn't like the short hair." She said, and he absentmindedly brought his hand up into her soft short locks, running his hand through it,

That shouldn't feel so good...She thought as he ran his hand through her hair,

"Your hair looks beautiful, the lighter colour makes your eyes brighter..." he let the sentence trail off, when she shivered, and let his hand fall back to her back,

"Thanks," she said still looking at him, is he hypnotizing me? I...I don't think so...

My calming technique is working...she's calmer now...that's good...He was glad she wasn't as stressed but she was still upset.

"Why have you been so well behaved?" She asked, her gaze drifting to his lips, they weren't far away from hers...

"I didn't want to upset you after...Birch..." he said, anger in his voice when he said the name, he'd scared her.

"Oh," she said, his lips moving were, mesmerising, yes...mesmerizing...What? What am I doing I can't think about his, I can't do that to him. Her thoughts were interrupted though, when gently those mesmerizing lips touched hers. She wasn't thinking when she kissed him back, when she wrapped one arm around his neck and held onto the curls at the back of his neck, when he moved closer to her. The barely audible moan that escaped her mouth was enough to break her from the wonderfulness of the kiss. She pulled away, not looking at him,

"Sorry," she muttered, tucking a non-existing piece of hair behind her ear, he felt guilty, like he was cheating, but at the same time he wanted nothing else but to be the one to make Teresa smile again. He reached over and put two fingers under her chin, and made her look at him. She saw the sincerity in his eyes,

"I'm not, not at all." He said quietly, and leaned forward again, she turned her face away from his lips, and got a gentle kiss on her cheek,

"I can't do that to you," she whispered, what are you talking about yes, yes, yes, and yes! Bring it on sexy curls! His lips stayed on her cheek,

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said pressing a kiss to the side of her mouth, tempting...

"Your wife..." he silenced her with another kiss,

"I can't go back in time..." he whispered against her lips, and this time she let him kiss her, let him draw her in.

What does that mean-He's such a good kisser...The line, or more preferably the wall she'd set up, was crumbling, with the spell he had her under, the rules she'd made for herself, all forgotten. His hands were gentle, running through the soft curls at the base of her neck, and pulling her closer. He skimmed his tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entrance, she parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulled her onto his lap; she went willingly, her hands pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders, then possessively going back into his hair as he shrugged it the rest of the way off. She thought for a moment if kissing was all he was good at...That is where this looks like it's going, but...I really don't mind...

"Teresa," he said it softly, his forehead pressed against hers, she exhaled sharply, sighing,

"Yes," she managed, massaging his head with her fingers,

"Would you like to go on?" he said leaning back to see her face, she nodded,

"If you want to, yes..." She said her hands sliding to his collar and then down to his vest, slowly slipping the buttons through their holes, she had gotten three done when her stuck two fingers under her chin and made her look at him,

"If is a ridiculous word," he said before he pressed his lips to hers once again, she blindly got the rest of the buttons undone and went immediately to his shirt. Their dancing lips didn't part once as they each removed clothing; shoes, shirt, socks...Jane ran his hands up her sides pulling her shirt along the way, and she raised her arms for him and another article was quickly discarded.

"Patrick, should we really be doing this, here?" she asked as his hands snaked behind her back and unclasped her bra, it too fell to the floor, her question forgotten as bare skin met with bare skin,

"You're so tiny..." he remarked, as she straddled his lap, her cheeks burned, and his hands roamed. Her hands found the front of his belt, she moaned into his lips when he cupped her right breast, and pulled her impossibly closer, he changed their position, and she was on her back against the couch, and his pants were quickly discarded and forgotten. He was on top of her leaning on his elbow so as not to put his full weight on her, and his eyes roamed over her body. She felt suddenly shy, and tried to hide by pressing herself to him,

"My dear, you're beautiful, you don't need to hide," he said and began to press kisses to her neck. Collar bone. Breasts. Stomach. He reached her pants and pulled them off her hips slowly, she whined in protest at the leisurely pace, and squirmed as his fingers danced over her skin giving her little tingles of pleasure.

"My, my, kitten, so impatient..." he had discarded of her pants and panties, and his gaze fell over her petite body,

"You hide your freckles," he said, a smile on his face her cheeks reddened,

"And, Kitten, you hide several beauty marks, under your clothes," he mused and kissed his way back up her body, kissing her marks, then pausing ,

"These two are my favourites," he mumbled placing a kiss slightly above her right breast and then to her neck, she shuddered,

"You like them?" she asked, pulling him back up to her, he kissed her lips,

"Definitely," and he kissed her again, she could help but giggle, and she pushed down his boxers with her knees and feet with skill, he pressed to her, bare skin on bare skin, and she couldn't suppress the moan that escaped her lips when he brought himself to her entrance, teasing her. She could feel herself aflame in the pit of her stomach and it needed to be quenched,

"Take me, please, Patrick take me," she said, on the verge of breaking. He obliged entering her tight shaft, she whimpered with pleasure, and captured his lips as he started an even rhythm, swallowing her moans. With every thrust the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened, she let out a strangled moan when one of his hands snaked between them pressing his thumb to her little bundle of nerves, and making tiny circles around it, she arched into him and her strangled moan was cut off into a pleasured cry,

"You're out of practice, kitten," he said breathlessly,

"I could say the same fo-" her orgasm took her by surprise and she bit down on his shoulder, to muffle her cry of pure pleasure. He groaned into her neck at the wonderful feeling of her clenching around him, but he wanted her to come at least twice before him, and he knew he'd only be capable of two. He kept going faster,

"Gawd! Never mind," she gasped, enjoying every second of him inside her, he's brilliant! He captured her lips in a frenzy of passion, and only minutes after her first, she came again, her walls clenching around him, she moaned his name and he came seconds after, spilling his seed inside her. Only two people had been capable of milking him dry, and they were practically opposites; tall, blonde, straight pixie cut hair, with the chocolatiest brown eyes ever: Isabelle. Small, brunette, wavy-curly short hair, with the most soul capturing green eyes on the planet: Teresa. There was one similarity, the freckles; Isabelle had freckles all over, from head to toe, and highly visible, Teresa has freckles over her nose and cheeks, and from there on all over her upper torso, but she covers them up. Both beautiful, both holding a third of his heart captive. But the last third, tiny, strawberry blonde nobody knows where it came from, ocean blue eyes; Lily, the little bundle of joy that had completed his life, six happy years, then none, his little Water-Lily held onto that last spot in his heart.

He peppered kisses to her face, as he fell to her side, both of them catching their breath. She turned to him and placed a kiss on his mouth, before she moved over and let him lie on his back. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and closed her eyes. Jane reached up and grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and covered them both, she exhaled with a contented soft moan, and pressed her lips to his chest,

"Patrick?" It seemed all too natural to use his first name; he began to rub her back,

"Yes..." The guilt he had pushed so far into the back of his mind was flooding back, in waves of pain, pain from that night, the argument he wished he could take back, the good night kiss he wished he could have given, the three words he could have said twice, for the two most special people in his life; "I love you Isabelle," and "I love you Water-Lily," he would have said...But that was the past and the past couldn't be redone, but still the guilt flooded, he wanted to run to get away before any further damage could be done. He felt unfaithful, but to whom he was torn, he hadn't cared for anyone as much as he did Teresa since that horrid night, but he'd felt whole with Isabelle. He knew; he felt like he was betraying the one who had filled the cup and made it spill. Lily. He felt like he was betraying Lily, the one thing most special to him, and the bigger reason he wanted to watch Red John die slowly, Isabelle was his love but, Lily was his life, the hate and rage he felt when she was gone, was purely primitive. It felt horrible, he had wanted, needed Teresa, and she him, but the guilt ate at him. That instinct to flee was still there.

"Please don't leave. I know that's a lot to ask, but please be there when I wake up, promise me..." Her last conscious wish, before she fell asleep. Torn, torn between a present love and a lost life line.

"I promise." Sorry Lily.