This is the fourth part of my story arc, which to date consists of three other stories: "Food For Thought", "A Mockingbird In A Fir Tree", and "Making A Night Of It".

It's a direct continuation of the last one and won't make much sense without knowledge of the other stories.

It starts out rather fluffy, but will contain major angst issues in later chapters.

The story includes explicit sexual content and is rated M for a reason.


I would like to thank my dear beta reader firstdown for her excellent work and the vast improvements to my writing she's responsible for. Any remaining mistakes you might find are of course my own fault.


I'm still not Bruno Heller, which remains to be a pity, but can't be helped. Consequently, I do not own "The Mentalist" and only play around with the characters.


Reviews make me very happy and are a great motivator.


Whatever Floats Your Boat

Teresa Lisbon was woken at noon by the fact that her bed had turned into a boat. That was at least what her last dream would indicate. She kept her eyes closed enjoying the sensation of the gentle up and down of the ocean waves, the feeling of deep peace from her dream carrying over into her awakened state. Very slowly her conscious mind caught up with her physical alertness. The first indicator was the realization that boats don't usually have the habit of stroking your hair. This led to another jump-start in her brain. She tried to orientate herself and found out that she was lying on her stomach, obviously naked and sprawled over a smooth surface that lifted and lowered her in an even rhythm. From somewhere under her right ear a constant beating sound was emanating.

"Are you conscious yet, Teresa?" a somewhat raspy voice asked from slightly above her head. "Or are you still racking your brain, trying to find out whether this is a save or a perilous situation you currently find yourself in?"

Her mouth turned into a happy smile, when her mind finally caught up with the whole state of affairs: she was lying on top of the man she loved, which incidentally meant that he was still here, in her bed, with her.

"Morning, Rigsby," she said huskily.

"Oh, Lisbon, not funny. That was a real low-blow," her lover whined. "You shouldn't do that to your men right after waking up together for the first time. You could do irreparable damage to some hapless guy with an inferiority complex."

"Oh, I couldn't resist. I've always wanted some payback for that time when you where regaining your sight and called ME Rigsby." She smiled sleepily against his chest. "Besides, I don't plan to wake up with any other man ever again and your ego is big enough to endure a few slights here and there, Patrick."

She opened her eyes, propped herself up a bit, and leant over to press her lips to his pouting ones. His arms found their way around her back, holding her close.

"Morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?" he asked after they broke their kiss.

"Like a baby. You wiped me out completely, it seems. How about you? Did you catch some sleep, Patrick?" she inquired warily, knowing this could be a touchy subject and she wasn't in the mood for yet another emotional release after all the heavy revelations from the past night. She was rather sure, that her lover had more than enough of that as well.

There were still a lot of things they would need to discuss in the near future, but right now she just wanted to savor this moment of closeness and contentment.

"Well, actually, believe it or not I only woke up about an hour ago which means I got about six or seven hours. So, not bad at all." He smiled, his hand still drifting through her hair. "What do you say, shall we loiter away the rest of the day in bed or did you have any plans for the weekend?"

She pondered his question for a moment or two. Lounging around with a naked Patrick Jane in her bed didn't sound all that bad. On the other hand she realized that she was rather hungry and a meal cooked by said man wasn't such a shabby alternative either…

She decided on a compromise. "I want you in my kitchen – naked - cooking breakfast for me."

He laughed out loud at that. "Let me guess: you couldn't decide whether you would be more inclined to stay in bed with me or listen to your stomach?"

She nodded a bit sheepishly.

"And that proposal is the reasonable middle ground you came up with?"

She nodded again.

"Well in that case, your wish is my command, my dear. But I have to insist you let me cover at least my more damageable parts before I use your gas stove – for your own benefit, of course."

"I think I can live with that. But your shorts have to go again as soon as we return here to eat in bed." She grinned happily.

"If you would grant me the same courtesy and accompany me to the kitchen in the nude, I would appreciate it very much, Teresa. But then again I might get a tad distracted by the sight which could turn hazardous. What do you think? A risk worth taking?" he teased.

"No risk, no fun, Mr. Jane. And you pride yourself on your self-control after all, don't you? Well, show some of that famous restraint then," she bantered.

"I know it might not appear that way considering my superior powers, but I am in fact only human, Agent Lisbon. And man is but frail matter That lady maketh splatter," Jane declared mock-sighing.

"Was that your good old buddy Shakespeare again?" she asked doubt clouding her voice.

He chuckled obviously amused. "No, Teresa. But thanks anyway, for the almost compliment – I'm afraid that was pure Jane. Not my best effort I admit, but it was absolutely heart-felt and spontaneous. That has to count for something at least, doesn't it, my dear?"

Her giggle warmed his heart and he just had to grab her face and plant a kiss on her smiling mouth. "I love you, Teresa," he spluttered afterwards and she caressed his cheek looking at him warmly and answered gently.

"I love you too, Patrick. Very much so." After a moment she added teasingly, "But your pancakes take a solid second place on the scale of my affections, so my day would be perfect having both of my favorite things put together."

"I guess that is your subtle way of telling me to get the hell out of your bed and make myself useful?" he inquired smirking.

"Got that right, mister."

"Well, not to sound disobedient but we have a problem here. You are aware, my dear, of the fact that you are actually lying right on top of me impeding my immediate departure?"

"Little details like that don't usually deter you from doing exactly what you want," she stated pertly.

He grinned evilly. "Oh, I wouldn't dare to call you a little detail but if you put it like that…" And with that he grabbed one of her shoulders and the hip which was diagonally opposite, lifted her up as if she was a feather, sat up himself and lowered her down again gently right beside him.

She looked up at him in open-mouthed shock. "What the hell! Did you just discard of me like I was some kind of bothersome obstacle?" she asked in indignation a moment later.

He smirked cheekily. "Of course not, Teresa. I just followed your orders to the letter. Isn't that what you always ask me to do? And here I'm, actually being all obedient and dutiful and she complains again… ack – you are a hard one to please." He threw his hands up in mock resignation. "I better get up and feed you before you get all grumpy. Coffee first, I suggest. I will get to it immediately. And if you would grant me a chance to take a short shower before I start on the real cooking I would be eternally grateful." He got up but not before planting another kiss on her mouth.

"Coffee sounds great, Patrick. And if you could hand me a glass of water right now I would appreciate it very much." He nodded yes, took the pitcher from her night stand, and poured her a glass.

She watched, admiring the view of her naked lover bent forward to do the task. He really has a damn fine ass, she thought with satisfaction.

He handed her the drink. "Here's your water. I'll be back in a few with your coffee. You just stay here and rest some more if you want to." With that he made his way out of the bedroom.


She lay back on her bed, a feeling of warmth, happiness and contentment filling her. He had stayed with her, he'd actually slept in her bed cuddling her, and he had been loving and playful this morning or rather afternoon giving no indication of being uncomfortable with the changed status of their relationship. All hints of her own doubts had vanished as well the moment she'd realized that absolutely nothing about this felt the least bit awkward.

Not even being completely naked in his presence bothered her – something she was a bit shy about usually. She wasn't a prude by any means, but to be honest – she was a little insecure about her appearance, and what woman wasn't? Somehow he had managed to make her feel totally at ease. And they were still acting like they had done both as Agent Lisbon and consultant Jane and as best friends only with the added bonus of expressing their feelings physically as well.

This was playing out even better than the way she'd dreamt it. That is, the very few times she'd actually allowed her dreams to go in that direction and had been in an overly optimistic mood simultaneously. Because only yesterday who in their right mind would have dared to predict that she would be resting in bed now after a night of absolutely mind-blowing sex with Patrick Jane, the smell of coffee brewing teasing her nose, eagerly awaiting the return of the man in question? Completely preposterous! But that's exactly what was happening and she was so incredibly happy her face was split in two by her blissful smile.

"You look exceptionally beautiful with that smile on your face, my dear," Patrick said from the bedroom door a moment later. "And now that I've come bearing coffee, we have to be careful your rapture doesn't reach dangerous proportions."

Coming closer, he set two mugs on the bedstand and gave her a peck on the nose with a grin. "I didn't get such a smile the other times I brought you coffee. Did anything unusual happen while I slaved away in your kitchen?" he inquired.

"Nope," she said. "I just allowed my mind to catch up with the latest changes in my life and I can honestly say – I am thoroughly happy, Patrick."

"That's good to hear, Teresa. Making you happy happens to be my top priority now."

The last part was added with a serious and meaningful expression that conveyed to her once again the monumental change that had occurred during the night.

She didn't fool herself into thinking that his obsession with Red John would disappear all of a sudden and that he would give up his revenge. She didn't expect that from him either. It wouldn't be fair to him. And frankly, after all the things that bastard had done to people she cared for – especially to the man currently looking at her with the first hints of hope he'd allowed himself in nearly ten years - she wished for Red John's downfall nearly as much as Jane did by now. And even though she was still eager to prevent Patrick from becoming a cold-blooded angel of vengeance when he got the chance, she'd long since accepted that a normal arrest and trial for the serial killer wasn't the way to go.

Unfortunately, she'd seen too much corruption on the inside of both law-enforcement and the juridical system to trust them blindly anymore. That monster was connected and cunning, he was manipulative and ruthless. Therefore, all she wanted now was for that bastard to be dead and gone without a chance to come back in any way or form. Naturally in her conception this meant him being shot by a cop/herself in self-defense during his arrest because anything else wasn't really acceptable in her book. Not that she intended to tell her lover about her change of heart on the matter any time soon…

Anyway, to hear Jane expressing his desire to make her the most important thing in his life was a deeper declaration of love than a mere phrase like 'I love you' from this man could ever be. She was deeply moved by it. Consequently she couldn't for the life of her think of any adequate response to his statement. That's why she decided to just allow it to stand.

She propped herself up fully leaning her back against the head board and reached for the coffee mug her lover was handing her.

She patted the space right next to her on the bed. "Come sit with me for a minute, will you? Drink your tea with me and then we can share a shower. Sound good to you?" she said seductively.

"Very much so." He nodded eagerly and sat down beside her. "It won't be conducive to those pancakes you wanted me to make for you, but you won't hear me complain. I would choose you over food anytime."

"Jane, you are awfully sappy today, you know?" she teased him.

"Yup. Can't help it – I woke up like that. It's your fault, actually. How else could I possibly behave after waking up to the sight of a blissfully dreaming Teresa drooling all over my chest?" he asked her cheekily, earning himself a cuff on the shoulder in return.

"I never drool, Jane. I don't even know how it's done."

"Really now, Lisbon? You could have fooled me. But if you say so… we can just as well call it salivating then if it makes you feel better." He rubbed her arm tenderly. "And for the record: Ow! That hurt – again…" he grinned, having just received another slap on his shoulder.

"Sappy and a wimp, Jane? If I didn't see them with my own eyes right now, I would have to say: Grow a pair," she bantered.

"Come to the bathroom with me and I'll show you they are in peak working condition," he teased right back, sporting an overdone ruttish smile that made her laugh.

"Yeah, come on hotshot, do your worst to me."

"Even on the danger of sounding sappy again, but I'll of course only do my best to you, my dear. Have you finished your coffee yet?" he inquired.

She nodded and handed him her empty mug pecking him on the cheek in the process. "That shower sounds very tempting right now. Even better than a second cup of coffee in fact. Come on, get your lazy butt up and accompany me."


TBC

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