Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just "write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." (No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

that's a three part story, a different intake at the events at the end of 3.7- which I hated. I just hope thuings went as I pictured them here-nothing against mash, but Lis simply belongs to Jane, point.

It was menat to be a bit short-the first version I wrote was more or less 800 words (and I almost published it), but, as always, as i tiped it, I started to add and add and add, so, here I am, with almost 2200 words.

He was still almost completely clothed, only his shirt was missing, allowing Lisbon to feel his well toned, smooth and slightly tanned chest under her hungry fingertips.

On her part, the only piece of clothes she still had on was a tiny pair of panties, green silk and lacy, a matching set that went along with her already missed and from a while discharged bra, and even that was about to be removed with quite an urgency. As much as she wanted him, he wanted her more, always have… When he finally was able to throw away the piece of lingerie, he started to make marvels on her whole body with his hands, lips and tongue… under his touch, under him, Lisbon felt relieved, felt happy, beautiful, wanted, loved, even…

She was melting under his soft and expert touches, urging the man to get rid of his clothes. She needed this, she wanted this, and she wanted to have it with him. He wanted as well, but he wanted to play a little first, and wanted her to enjoy it. He wanted for them to have fun; he wanted to see the both of them satisfied after their encounter.

Grinning, looking at her blissful expression of delight, he spread her legs open, and lowering himself, he positioned his head between them. His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers started to stroke the tender flash of her nipples, hardening them under his strokes. He sucked her femininity for few moments that she thought were never over, until, finally, he penetrated her with his tongue, still grinning against her pelvis, stimulating the sensitive nerves. She cried out in pleasure as he did it.

With her eyes shout, she started to purr, moan, and breath heavily, moving her hips along with him, with the thrusts of his tongue inside her, mimicking a movement she hoped to feel soon, a movement she wanted and needed to feel soon. She was prisoner of the ecstasy he was bringing her. He was fucking her with his tongue, and as much as she loved it, she wanted him to fuck her for real; she craved his hardness inside of her. Smiling content, she put her hands in his hair, stalling his movements, trying to move his head away from her folds, to make him understand what she wanted.

The man on top of her, though, didn't seem to get the message, too lost in his own world, and kept pleasuring her with his mouth. But it wasn't his tongue she wanted inside of her, it wasn't with his tongue that she wanted to be fucked; oral sex wasn't what she needed, not now, at least. Now she needed to be really, royally, fucked by this man, to get over weeks and months of sexual frustration.

"Please, drop it… you know what I need… just fuck me for real… please, Jane…" she moaned, before feeling the man on top of her retreating.

She sat in front of him, unable to keep eye-contact, feeling the sudden need to cover her nudity with the covers. She didn't need to look at him to know he was shocked. Hell, she was shocked as well. And she was embarrassed and sorry.

"Apparently, I'm losing my touch…" he tried to joke and be positive, running slender fingers through his short hair, his eyes focused not on Lisbon but on the pavement. He wanted to be causal about it, but it was hard, and new. It was the second time a woman turned him down, and both times it had been Teresa Lisbon to pull away from him and his invitations. He knew they had both agreed on just a single one night stand, but he hoped in few repeat performances. After all, they were having fun, that, until she had moaned that name, begging another man for a sexual release, a man who wasn't the one who was having sex with her. "But it's ok, really, we're both adults. I can stand it. Besides, it's not the first time a woman moans someone else's name while we are going at it, so no big deal, really."

"No, it's not ok" she hissed between her teeth, mad not with this man who, despite the appearance, was being nice, but herself and Patrick Jane "it's not ok when it's years that I can't have a date because my mind is always focused on him! It's not ok that I can't sleep at night nor eat properly because I'm worried about him all the time! It's not ok that I can't have sex because every time I'm with someone, I have to retreat because when I close my eyes it's him I see on top of me! It's not ok that I torture myself with images of him pleasuring me, loving me, brining me there!" she crossed her arms and cried like a child, while, awkwardly, Mashburn embraced her, tapping her on the shoulders, uneasy and not used to such gestures. And, apparently, Lisbon wasn't either, since, as soon as he started to try to make it better, she run into the bathroom, leaving him speechless and unsure of what to do and how to behave, other than offering Lisbon the other bed of suite, sure than there's no way she'll ever sleep with him.

When morning come, as she left again the bathroom, she quickly get dressed, hoping to be able to avoid Mashburn, that he could be one of those riches that stay in bed all day, or at least until midday, she is still too embarrassed by what happened. She had been the one to go to him. He had been the one pleasuring her. She had been the one who had called out Jane while he was pleasuring her.

"Good Morning" as she heard his voice coming from the bed, she turned to look at him, whispering back a quick "morning", still half-naked, uncomfortable, hands on her hips, eyes everywhere but at him.

"I'm glad you come over last night" there's something in his voice, she couldn't say exactly what, but she could say that, despite how their night went, he really was glad to have her there, he was glad he had been of help. She had never believed he was really a good man, but, apparently, Walt was one, indeed. And, as her usual, she couldn't choose the right and good guy. Like when in High School, she had to choose the cold-hearted bastard and venerate him from afar…

"Me too" she'd like to tell him that she was glad that she had finally managed to say the words out loud, that admitting her love to Jane had been the first step into happiness, but… she couldn't. It wasn't true. Admitting she was in love with Jane was just that, words that didn't matter a thing for the man, it wasn't going to change what there was between her and her consultant, or between her and Mashburn. It could have not changed what there was between her and Bosco, and it's with a hysterical laughter that she realized that her mentor had been right, she did too much for Jane, she exposed herself too much for him, and he wasn't worth it, probably. Ok, maybe finally telling someone made me feel better, but that's all. I'm not going to confess my love to Jane just because I told Mashburn how I felt…

"I'll call room service, order some breakfast"

"Sorry, can't. I'm late and the bastards keep killing people" she smiled at him. It was the first honest smile of the day, of days. She would like to accept, her stomach would like to accept, but she couldn't, not after what she had (not) done to (with) him. Besides, at the office, there's Jane, and she missed him and she was worried sick about him. Like always.

"When am I gonna see you again?" he asked, with hope and delight in his voice. Lisbon wasn't sure why, if he was just enjoying her company, or if he wanted to keep trying chasing after her. She should be flattered, really, and a part of her was, but, like the night before, a face appeared in her mind. As much as she may want Walt, he was not Jane, and she wasn't ready for someone who wasn't a blonde with curly hair and cerulean eyes named Patrick Michael Jane, not yet, and maybe never.

"Aren't you going to Europe tomorrow?"

"Yeah, two months, just boar meetings" he shook his shoulders, like it was nothing, and looked at Lisbon getting closer and closer to him, smiling, sitting on the edge of the bed. A part of him would hope that she'd throw herself at him, getting naked again, but this time ending what they started, but he knew she wasn't going to, her confession is still too fresh. She just admitted at loud loving her consultant, she'd never make love, or even have sex, with someone else.

"There you go, then" she closed the distance between them, giving him a kiss on the lips. It's a slow, sensual, and a bit lusty kiss that normally would be foreplay for something else, but, basically, she was just saying with her lips that he was a good and decent guy, and she was a stupid idiot. It wasn't a kiss of passion of love, but a kiss of gratitude. She could have kissed on the cheek, but, if she'd kissed him on the cheek, she'd felt like she was kissing her brother, so, she had preferred instead the lips. Besides, he had been so sweet, it was the least she could do to say goodbye and thanks you. "It was nice seeing you again"

"I'm a one night stand. I can't believe it" he confessed laughing, even if he hadn't been a one night stand if not in her intentions. She responded in the same way, with the biggest smile he had ever seen on her, that's quite magnificent, and he couldn't believe that Patrick Jane was so obsessed with his past to not understand what's right before his eyes…

"Well, if it can be of any consolation, I'd leave you cab fare, but I assume you already got that properly covered"

"Bye Teresa"

"Bye-Bye, Walter" he looked at her leaving the room, the last sound audible the tone of her mobile and her sweet but strong voice, giving orders to her team, telling them who was supposed to be where and do what, and where Jane could go and what he was allowed to do and say, and with s mile on his lips Walt started to reflect on how a supposed night of great wild sex turned into this, amazed. He hadn't seen that coming, he had been surprised, and he always loved surprises, considering that not many things could still had that effect on him, and women weren't surely in that category from quite a long time.

He hadn't been that surprised from her confession, though. After all, he had always seen how close Lisbon and Jane were. What had surprised him was how deep her feelings run, he hadn't seen just how much close they were, how much she cared, he hadn't seen that she was in love with him, of that kind of love that makes you lose your appetite, cause sleep deprivation, with your mind stuck on that person and that person only, all the time.

Lisbon, obviously, thought it was the worst kind of love, unrequited one, but, if he looked back at Jane's behavior, he wasn't so sure. There were small things, but… Jane cared about her, too much for being just coworkers. It was too much even for just friends, according to him (he had few women who were friends, but he didn't drive them in a Ferrari to fancy and romantic restaurant for an impromptu dinner) so, maybe, maybe, there was something more between them, something they weren't fully aware of yet (at least, on Jane's side. Lisbon was too aware of her feelings for the blonde), something they hadn't been able to tell each other yet.

A plan come into his mind, as he smiled, proud of himself. Europe could wait, after all he had people to attend meeting and take decision in his place. Now, he wanted to try something new. I wonder if playing matchmaker is as funny as hunting… if his plan was going to work, he could always repay Lisbon and Jane for the two times they had helped and/or saved him, and if Jane didn't want Lisbon, there was always a small chance of winning her heart, maybe even for a night and a night only, or maybe…after all, he could definitely see her as ex wife number four, who knows.

The ball was soon going to be on Patrick Jane's part of the camp. Whatever was going to happen, it was now up just to the blonde mentalist.