A/N: This is a tag to both 7.09 and the series finale. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, the wonderful Bruno Heller does.

A Tryst, A Tackle & A Trio

Chapter 1 - A Tryst & A Tackle

Lisbon giggled, her body swaying, as she walked up the path to her house. Jane paid the cab and rushed up to hold her by her elbow.

"I'm not that drunk!" she laughed.

"I never said you were, my dear," Jane replied, fishing the key to her house out of his pocket and putting an arm around her shoulder to keep her in a straight line. As he stooped slightly to put the key in the lock she quickly took advantage of him being closer to her height and kissed him on the cheek.

He laughed and ushered her inside. As he closed the door behind him her playfulness was replaced with passion and she pinned him against the door, going up on tiptoes to kiss him urgently.

He laughed again, putting his hands on her arms to pull her away. "Lisbon, I believe I have to take back my words. You are extremely drunk." He pecked her lips quickly. As he tried to move her away from his body she caught him again. Her strength always surprised him and even in her inebriated state he found himself wedged up against the door once again. She kissed him, her tongue forcefully entering his mouth. This time, he put his hands around her waist and responded in kind. As they came up for air he tried again. "Teresa...come on...we need to get some water into you and then take you to bed."

After the next kiss, she panted, "Water, no. Bed, yes. But not yet." She dived in for another kiss and began to unbutton his vest quickly. He put his hands up to stop her but she shook them away. "What happened to the daredevil I used to know who tried to take advantage of every situation and use it for his own means?" she sighed as she kissed his exposed neck.

"I'm not taking advantage of you. You're drunk, woman!" he laughed.

She pulled away from him at last and blinked to put him in focus, shaking her head. "I'd say I was the one trying to take advantage of you, Patrick Jane. Now stop being such a stubborn ass and let me."

She kissed him again in the midst of Jane chuckling at her last statement. He remembered her words from earlier and Pete's also as his old friend was leaving.

Life was too short.

Enjoy the here and now.

As she pressed her breasts into him he placed all reservations aside and began to kiss her back thoroughly. A low growl came from her throat that enticed him further and he shed her leather jacket in no time. His hands rested on her hips for a split second and then he pulled at the black T-shirt she wore, practically tearing it off her. He pushed her against the wall opposite with a guttural moan (he would have to look into whether the pheromones present when making love increased one's body strength or if he had luckily just had the element of surprise) and devoured her now bare flesh. They groaned as she clung to him and rifled her fingers through his hair, teasing it then yanking hard on it. Jane removed his vest and shirt while he kissed the valley between her breasts. Her nails slid down his bare back as she sucked on his earlobe.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, almost already at his limit as she began to fondle him as her deft fingers roved urgently over the front of his pants. They had made love many times but this was the first time it was quite so primal. He quickly undid her pants and slid them down her legs, before kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning his own. Spurred on, she undressed entirely before dragging his face back to hers for another earth shattering kiss. "Hurry up," she ordered.

If his mind had any coherent thoughts at this stage that he had been able to vocalise he was sure he would have said something about her being extremely bossy but as it was he merely complied by kicking off the remainder of his clothes and pressing his hot flesh into her.

An hour later she lay naked in his arms with her head on his chest. He had finally managed to get some water into her as he quenched his own thirst after their midnight tryst in the hallway and had persuaded her to come to bed shortly after making her some tea and toast. She was still on a high and her fingers ran through the small patch of hair on his chest, smiling as she did so. He ran his fingers along strands of her chestnut locks from top to tip, entwining them around his fingers. Neither spoke for minutes, cocooned together in their own personal heavens until Jane broke the silence.

"So...you going to admit you were drunk yet, Agent Lisbon?"

She giggled into his chest. "I guess I was. Champagne. I blame the bubbles."

Jane laughed. "Hmm. We had Champagne for my birthday and I don't recall the same...performance."

She lifted her head to look at him, a line between her eyes. "You weren't satisfied that night?"

Jane kissed her deeply. "I'm satisfied every night we're together. Whether we make love or not. What I'm asking is...well that night you were more...uh...delicate with me. It's not a complaint about that night or tonight. Just wondering what the difference was because Champagne alone didn't make you act like you did tonight."

She placed her head back on his chest, her fingers taking up the rhythmic stroking of his chest hair once again. "That night you were...emotional. After the cup, I mean. I didn't think you'd appreciate being pounced on like a panther. You needed a little more of a...subtle seduction."

He kissed the top of her head. He sometimes forgot how well she knew him. He was so used to reading people and situations he didn't always remember that she had a decade or so in working out his own tells. "And tonight?"

She laughed softly and bit her lip. "Tonight?" Her laugh died down and she sighed. "We had a good day today. Abbott was saved from prison. His wife is still getting her promotion and Cho got the job he deserves. We helped our friends today. And put a crooked FBI Agent away. I'd say that was cause to celebrate, wouldn't you?"

Jane nodded. "And we danced. Three times." He paused and kissed her hair, breathing in its scent and closing his eyes. "You know for that time I was able to forget what comes next. The next case. The next time one or all of us will be in danger. It felt...normal. For the first time in years I...felt normal. Just a regular guy dancing with his girlfriend and surrounded by friends." He blinked a tear away from the corner of his eye. "I didn't realise how much I missed that until now."

"I like seeing you like that. Joyous. Relaxed. Just wish I saw you like it more often."

"I'm trying. I'll try more from now on. Enjoy every day like you said. And I liked seeing you like I did earlier too-"

"Drunk?" she laughed.

He laughed in return. "No. But I'm glad you finally admitted it. I mean...carefree. Treating me like someone who doesn't have to be treated with kid gloves."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Sometimes. And I more than understand why. And sometimes to be honest I need to be. But it was nice being treated like just a...a..."

"Piece of meat?"

He laughed again. "Something like that."

She snuggled into his chest a little further, her eyelids beginning to close.

"Why didn't you want to see Pete and Sam this time?" he asked before sleep took over her.

She opened her eyes immediately and drew them to his. "What do you mean? I was busy in the evidence room when they came to say goodbye to you."

"Hmm. You knew they were coming in and you picked that precise moment to check evidence from a case that we closed three weeks ago?"

"The report had to be filed."

"In that instant?" He raised his eyes to challenge her. "You've met them before a couple of times. And you haven't asked me if I told them about us."

"If you already know the answer then why are you asking the question?"

He shrugged and smiled. "It's what I do. So, you were nervous about meeting them now that we're together in this way. What I do not understand is why. They've always liked you. Even if you are a cop. Even sent my letters to you."

She nibbled her bottom lip and looked down for a moment. She shrugged and mumbled, "It's different now." She gazed back at him. "They might be okay with us being friends but...I wasn't sure how they'd feel about finding out we're together."

Jane nodded. "Because they knew Angela?" he asked softly.

She shrugged.

He ran his fingers down her cheek and lifted her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. "I told them. It was the first thing I told Pete when I saw him."

Lisbon's mouth parted for a few seconds before she spoke. "And...he was okay with it?"

Jane grinned. "More than okay. He guessed it was you as soon as I told him I was seeing someone. He told me...he told me that I should have someone. That I deserve to be happy."

The wedding ring that was currently entangled in her curls caught his eye and he remembered the other half of their conversation.

As she put her head back on his chest he whispered, "Does it bother you?"

"Mmm? Does what bother me?" she replied, yawning, her eyes closed and her body preparing for sleep.

"That I still wear it."

Without moving her head or opening her eyes she replied quickly, "No, of course not."

The too quick response and denial gave him his answer. "Teresa-"

"Sleepy, Jane. Let's get some sleep."

Avoidance of the issue, another telltale sign of how much it bothered her, even on a subconscious level.

He stared at the ring again before turning off the light beside them.

"Night, Patrick. Love you," she sighed, already half asleep.

"Goodnight, Teresa, I love you too."

He ran his thumb over his ring. He had an amazing woman in his arms who accepted him, tonne load of baggage and all. Who would never give up on trying to make him whole again. Who had seen him through the worst time in his life and still managed to love him despite the pain he had sometimes put her through. He flicked the ring with his thumb.

He thought about Pete's words and how he had changed the subject as soon as it was brought up. What the hell was he waiting for? Some sign from a god he didn't believe in that it was time to remove it permanently?

It was once a sign of his love. Now when he felt it, it suddenly seemed like a betrayal of the woman in his life now. The woman he loved. Was that why he wore it still? Did he feel guilty for loving Teresa as much as he loved Angela? Did he think taking it off now would prove he loved Angela less? He flipped the question in his head. Did Teresa think he loved her less than Angela? He rolled his eyes. Of course, she must think that you idiot he told himself.

What else would a woman think when you wear a ring given to you by your dead wife? No wonder she wasn't willing to even consider leaving the FBI. Why would she do that for someone who couldn't show her some level of commitment?

He tightened his hold on her and kissed her head, smiling when he heard her babble incoherently before uncurling herself from him and hurling herself and the bedclothes to the other side of the bed so she could stretch out, kicking him in the shin in the process. He stifled a moan from the pain along with a laugh. "Okay, love," he whispered. "I get the point you're not so subtly making."

Turned out he didn't need a thunderbolt to tell him after all. Lisbon's tackle with her foot had been all the incentive he'd needed. All of a sudden he knew. Stop stalling, Patrick Jane, it was time.