He appeared with the rolls and the rest of their breakfast just a few minutes later. They sat down and started to eat in comfortable silence, only speaking occasionally to ask the other for an item they couldn't reach.
After a while he started to talk. "Ganache is the main part of a chocolate truffle. It's a mixture of butter, cream and chocolate and in this particular case some Marc de Champagne, which is a spirit distilled from the pomace of champagne grapes. All of this put together is basically the inside of the chocolate. At this stage, it needs to stand and cool for a few hours, before it's ready for the next part of the process. It might disappoint you deeply, but it has nothing at all to do with guns, I'm afraid." He sent her a knowing smile.
"How did you…? No, forget I asked," she huffed. "Sometimes you sound like a walking encyclopedia, Jane."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he inquired carefully.
"I'm still undecided," she answered, slightly miffed. "Sometimes it makes me feel stupid. I don't like that."
"Well, you are not. I'm just a know-it-all with too much time to read, Teresa. And an unhealthy urge to constantly share his useless drivel," he admitted sheepishly.
She reached out over the table to grab one of his hands and squeeze it gently. "I accepted a long time ago that you are smarter than me, Patrick. I don't mind that. Sometimes it's just irritating how knowledgeable you are and how many gaps I seem to have in my general education. But I guess it's my own fault for comparing myself with you of all people." With a lighter voice she added, "I don't think I would do so badly stacked up against anybody else. You shouldn't feel bad about your knowledge. It's hard earned, I know that."
"I don't intend to make you feel stupid, Teresa. I wouldn't dream of it. You are one of the most intelligent people I know. I hold a huge respect for your intellect. You have official permission to punch me, whenever I make you feel inferior," he said seriously, returning her hand-squeeze.
"As if I needed any permission to do that," she grinned, letting go of his hand, so she could continue with her breakfast. "These biscuits are delicious by the way. Thank you."
"I probably should have warned you. It's an old carnie recipe. Not that that is dangerous or contagious or something. But people tend to be a bit skeptical when it comes to traveling folk," he explained.
"Really? Who taught you how to make them?" she asked with genuine interest.
He looked pleased at that. "Berta, The Lady With The Beard," he answered. "She was Pete's wife. Died about eleven years ago. Great woman," he added with a fond smile.
"What kind of beard? Was it real?" she inquired.
He chuckled. "Oh yes, as real as can be. It would have covered every inch of her face, if she hadn't been shaving several times a day. Well, actually she had a chronic condition called hypertrichosis. Not a nice thing to have for a woman, but it paid off on the carnival at least. I would say she was the closest thing to a mother I've ever had. But she wasn't very happy with me when I left." He said the last part a bit sadly. "She wasn't too fond of the Ruskin family. Didn't like me getting together with Angela." He paused a moment before he huffed, "A pity, really. Prejudices are such crap. Given the chance, they would've hit it off, I'm sure of it. Well, doesn't matter now anyway, they are both dead after all. But baking she could, dear Berta. No doubts about that."
"You know, I'm very happy you're willing to share things about yourself with me," Teresa said.
He cast her a serious look. "I wouldn't mind if you returned the favor, my dear. I would love to hear some stories from your past."
She nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Patrick. I'm not holding back information willfully. It's just that these past days have been about you for the most part. And I appreciate the fact that you are opening up a bit. There'll be plenty of time for me to divulge my childhood secrets."
"I'm looking forward to it," he replied, smiling at her kindly. "Say, do you have any plans for today?"
"No. Is there anything specific you want to do?" she asked.
He looked a bit uncomfortable and undecided. "Well. Actually. I talked with Andy earlier. He called to ask me if we wanted to come with him and Sheila and visit Ben at the carnival. It's his last day here in Sacramento. I'm not sure whether I want to go or not. What do you think?"
"I think it's a splendid idea. I'd really like to see them again. And I haven't been to a carnival in years. Will Pete be there, too?" she inquired.
He shook his head no. "This is a different carnival circuit, Teresa. Not the one I used to travel with. But I'm sure there'll be an elephant or two around anyway. And you can meet Andy's folks. There is a certain chance that Joe might be around as well. But I promise, I'll keep my cool this time."
"Oh I have complete trust in you. But chances are I'll beat him up, the bastard," she snarled.
"Don't you dare, Lisbon! I won't allow my lady friend to beat up the big bad guy for me. I might be a modern and enlightened man, but there are limits to how much humiliation my male dignity can bear. I already know you are a mean, hard-ass cop, no reason to prove that any further." He winked at her. "Ah, speaking of which. Let me be the one to pick out your outfit for the day, okay? Not a smart move to signalize law enforcement all that glaringly at a carnival, you know," he said with a smile.
"I don't always look like a cop, Jane. Your lot is just overly distrustful, for whatever reason," she said with conviction.
He snickered tauntingly. "Yes, sure thing. Not a trace of cop in you, Agent Lisbon. Sorry to disappoint you, but you look like a cop even in the nude, love. I don't mind, of course, but I'm not your average carnie either. Not to worry. I'll find the most appropriate un-coppish outfit you own and you'll be fine."
"I am still able to dress myself, Mr. Jane, thank you very much," she hissed.
"Sour spot, Agent Lisbon?" he teased. "You look very cute when you're angry."
"Shut up, Jane. You're annoying me," she said in a tone illustrating that fact clearly.
"Don't like to be called cute much, do you? Well, join the club." He cast her a smug look.
She rolled her eyes and calmed down again. She had to admit that he was at least partly right. Not that she intended to tell him so. She poured herself another cup of coffee and leaned back in her chair to savor it.
"Did you tell Andy about us?" she inquired a while later.
"I didn't know whether you would be comfortable with it or not. We haven't really talked about it," he answered.
"I think you should, Patrick. I don't mind. It'll be nice to be in the open, at least with your friends around. I'm still not sure about the team, though. What's your take on it?" she asked.
He looked her directly in the eyes with a very open expression. "I would shout it from the highest tower in the city, if you allowed me to. I'm the luckiest man and I would like to share it with the whole world. But for the moment, I'm perfectly content with just telling Andy, Sheila and Ben. Other than that, as I said yesterday, it's up to you. I'll follow your lead."
She smiled at him. "Shout it from a tower? Honestly, Jane. That's rather sappy again, you know that, don't you?"
He shrugged. "Well, I would do it."
"And the scary thing is I fully believe you," she chuckled.
He just grinned deviously.
They finished their breakfast soon afterwards and started to clear the table.
"Well, let's see. It's a quarter past ten now. Would it be alright if I told Andy and Sheila to meet us at the fairground around two pm? That would leave us with ample time to clean up the kitchen, have hot sex on the counter, shower and change," Patrick reeled off, completely straight-faced.
"Excuse me, but I'm not sure I heard the part in the middle correctly." She smiled benignly.
"Oh, I'm rather sure you did. See you in a few. I have a phone call to make," he told her snootily and left in search of his cell phone.
She snickered and felt her heart skip a beat in anticipation. Just to get back at him a bit, she decided to eavesdrop on his conversation with Andy. Besides, she was genuinely curious, how he would tell his oldest friend about the new development in his personal life. Hidden from sight by her bookshelf, she watched him pacing in the sitting room. It was a pity, she could only hear Patrick's side of the conversation, but she listened attentively, having to fight the urge to laugh out loud more and more.
"Hi, Andy. I talked with Teresa and we're joining you." He paused, apparently listening. "I'm glad to hear that you're exstatic about it." She saw him grin.
"I would like to tell you something important, before we meet," he said seriously, and had to pause for at least a minute, presumably because Andy talked ninteen to a dozen. She could see Patrick rolling his eyes.
"No, it's nothing bad. Could you please shut up for a sec, mate?" he tried again, not very successful it seemed. "There's no reason to worry, Andy, just let me…" He sighed and shook his head in exasperation.
"Oh, hi Sheila. Did you steal the phone from that idiot? Are you willing to listen for a moment? Andy seems unable to…" He was obviously interrupted again and rolled his eyes once more. "What's wrong with you people? Do you ever manage to have a sensible conversation together? Or are you just driving each other nuts like you do me?" He chuckled.
"What? You're accusing me of not getting to the point now? Incredible." He raised his brows and spoke up again, voice full of amusement. "Okay, I will just come right out and say it – heaven knows, whether you'll be actually listening, but…" He laughed out loud. "I'm taxing your patience? Really? Well, join the club."
Another minute went by. "That sounds great. So you're both calm and attentive. Perfect. Alright, here it comes: Teresa and I are together now." He looked a bit anxious after his declaration.
But then he chuckled. "Yes, Andy, like in having sex." Lisbon could hear a very high-pitched sound emanating from his cell phone. "Gosh, Sheila! I'm certainly deaf now." Another loud noise was audible even where Teresa stood. Patrick held the phone at least two feet away from his head and shouted. "Andy? Control your wife. Her squeals are hurting my sensitive ears." The piercing sounds stopped and he put the phone back to his ear.
Then a beautiful smile took over his whole face. "Thank you. Yes, I'm very happy." The smile turned into a satisfied grin. "Well, I certainly hope so. She seems happy enough to me, but you can ask her in person later." He nodded. "Okay, let's make it two o'clock on the parking lot, see you."
He closed his phone and breathed out in obvious relief. She couldn't stop herself any longer and broke out into a fit of laughter.
"Eavesdropping, Agent Lisbon? How naughty." He went over to her and pulled her into a fierce kiss, effectively stopping her laughing. It turned heated fast.
She broke the kiss a long moment later, starting to unbutton his shirt. "I assume they approve?"
"Huh?" He was already too aroused to think clearly.
"Andy and Sheila. They approve of us being together?" she asked again.
He looked at her with hungry eyes, but at least a modicum of comprehension. "Yes, they do. Andy even asked whether we had sex and all that. Do we? Very soon?"
She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Absolutely. Why don't you get naked and lie down on the couch? I'll be back in a minute. It's not the kitchen counter but I'd prefer it that way."
"Wherever you want to, Teresa. I feel like a randy teenager these days. Hurry, will you?" He moaned, kissing her again greedily.
She pushed him back, before things could get too much out of hand. "Couch, naked, mister. I won't be long."
TBC
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