Thank you so much for your feedback! I wrote chapter 5 today, and I must admit- I got from angsty to sexy faster than I intended in the beginning, sorry! I just hope you'll like it… at least the writing is progressing nicely, so you won't have to wait too long for updates.

Thank you for reading my stuff!

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Mentalist", and I don't make money from fan fiction.

Ch.3

He was severely out of breath once he had climbed the high ridge and the fact that there had been an actual road had only eased the task a little.

The blackish silhouette of a big motor home contrasted sharply with the darkening sky, a small fire burning on the ground in front of it.

Lisbon was nowhere to be seen, but he felt an almost electrical sense of excitement running through his veins. He hadn't seen her in months. He couldn't wait.

He slowly, carefully walked around the massive van, scanning his surroundings, when suddenly, his eye caught sight of a small shadowy figure at the edge of the Canyon. His heart made a leap inside his chest.

She hugged her knees close to her body, staring into the Canyon in quiet repose, her face calm and sad in the dying light. She was so beautiful. He wanted her so much.

He didn't dare to draw attention to himself, so he just waited, minute after minute, until she sensed a change in her surroundings and looked up.

When she saw him, her surprise was so big he was scared she would fall off the cliff, and he hastened to make a few steps in her direction before he caught himself.

She got up and approached him slowly, as if suspended in some kind of trance.

"Jane," she whispered, the relief enormous in every word, "you're alright."

She extended her hands, but stopped herself before she would have touched his chest. She recoiled, and for a fleeting moment, she looked like a frightened little girl scared of getting burned again. But any way to protect herself seemed gone, and she presented herself vulnerable, open, dangerously soft. He'd never seen her like this.

For a second, it was all there, the love, the longing, the want. So many feelings he could taste them, and the silence seemed to last forever, eyes doing the talking, speaking nothing but the truth.

Before she hardened her gaze, covered her open soul with the enormous strength she possessed.

He saw everything tumble, break down, it didn't come as a surprise, but it hurt so much he felt needy like a little boy, his soul begging for her forgiveness when his tongue could not. Her voice was sharp and cutting.

"Leave, please. You shouldn't be here."

It was as if he'd been woken from a beautiful dream by being doused with ice water. The shock made him vulnerable and careless.

He felt tears rise in his eyes and was grateful that the darkness hid them from her view.

"Why do you hate me so, Teresa?"

It was not even a real question, for he knew she had ample reason to hate him. It was nothing but the hurt little boy speaking from somewhere deep inside his heart.

He heard a sound that was like a sob, deep and broken, cut short in the middle as if she wouldn't allow herself to cry.

"I don't hate you, Jane. But I won't go through this, ever again. I … couldn't even stand myself these past months. I'm not going to go there again. And…"

She made a heavy pause, no doubt trying to compose herself, her mind wandering back to a pain that had been even more fatal.

"…you could leave, just like that. You didn't even give me a real goodbye, Jane. These last days, you were… already gone. I couldn't take hold of you. And then- you vanished into thin air. And I was worried again, every day, every night, wondering if you were healing. If you were doing fine."

She sighed.

"I never thought it could hurt that much."

She absently rubbed the skin over her heart.

He swallowed a desperate sob, stopping the urge to grab her, pull her close, let her cry against his chest, get it all out. He clenched his fists, desperately searching for some kind of control, a way back to the things he knew.

"I see. I didn't know I made you lose your job…"

She snorted.

"Fuck the job, Jane."

She walked past him, taking care to extinguish the fire, submerging the world into darkness.

He looked at her in some kind of quiet, pained fascination, as if he would never be able to take his eyes off her again.

She stilled, her back to him, just standing there, obviously staring ahead into the darkness.

"What do you want here, Jane?"

Her voice sounded small and forlorn, and he couldn't say it, emotions clotting his throat, everything too raw, too urgent. The words wouldn't form.

Lisbon sighed.

"Go away. Let's stop here, before things start to get truly ugly. It was good seeing you, great to know you're alright. Just… go now."

She entered the van and closed the door with a dry thud, dismissing him.

He closed his eyes and wanted to cry. Already it was starting to get cooler, in no time it would get seriously uncomfortable.

But he just couldn't leave.

He was prepared for everything. He knew it would probably be bitterly cold during the night, but he wouldn't budge. He could stand the cold, biofeedback had never disappointed him, and no matter what happened, he would stay.

The ground still held the day's heat, so he sat down there, rubbing his hands against the red dust to gather its warmth for the cold hours to come.

His heart felt torn and heavy. He deserved this, though. He had hurt her badly, and he would pay the price, every single dime. Closing his eyes, he mustered some biofeedback tricks to contain his body warmth as long as possible.

xxxxxxxxxx

He was still sitting there, and Lisbon could almost feel the cold creeping up from the canyon, ready to engulf the world in its icy embrace. Every night it got so cold that she needed two blankets to get toasty. And damn- she still loved him, so much her heart felt bloody.

Everything inside her told her to keep him close. But- he had just left her as if she had meant nothing. Where had he been? Her mind went back to the moment when she had went searching for him, finding his attic empty. Finding him gone from her life, just like that. Bertram calling her to his office when she was still in a state of shock. Her stopping Cho from acting out against the director- he would have destroyed his career for her. And Jane- had just been gone, as if he had never existed.

The things she had done for him. She had betrayed her principles for him over and over, and facing the same situation, she would do it again without even thinking. Losing him had almost killed her. And she had been helpless, forced to watch. Shut out from his life. Degraded from his partner to a mere acquaintance he left behind.

She had craved him so much. Looking at him, hearing his voice, his smile warming her very soul. She had longed for the privilege she had never owned- touching him, taking his touch. She had been aglow with missing him. It had pricked her like a million needles, every minute, every day.

She couldn't leave him out there in a freaking three-piece-suit. Stubborn man.

She made some brisk preparations before she opened the door.

"Are you claustrophobic, Jane?"

He turned and looked at her.

"No. Why?"

She sighed.

"You can sleep inside the compartment above the cockpit. I don't like climbing up there, so it's free."

He smiled and got up slowly, brushing the dust off his pants.

"I'm afraid I got a little dirt…"

"Yeah, no problem, you can use the shower, too."

She turned and led the way, every step strangely insecure. She had no idea where this road would take them, but she already sensed that she wouldn't get rid of him, that he was here to stay. Her heart gave a traitorous little jump.

But she shouldn't allow herself to get wrapped up in childish dreams again, when the fall had hurt so much the first time around.

She listened to the sounds he made behind her, keeping herself busy with preparing tea. He had brought a big, shiny new backpack, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw him retrieve his clothes, smoothing out the creases. She loved his hands. Loved that he was here, sharing her space. Loved him. She closed her eyes in desperation, scolding herself. No. She couldn't fall for him again.

She almost laughed out loud. Truth was, she had never fallen out of love, and her heart ached for him.

Damn.

She felt him looking at her before he entered the shower, but averted her eyes, not ready to meet his gaze yet. She heard the water running, trying to stop her mind from imagining him naked, his hands sliding over his body…

Double damn.

This was a disaster, and she couldn't even believe that it actually happened to her.

When he left the shower, dressed in one of his old-fashioned pajamas, his shiny blond curls still damp, she sensed that he wanted to talk, which was the essence of what she didn't want.

"You should go to sleep," she whispered, "it has been a long day."

He hesitated, but finally nodded in defeat.

"Goodnight, Teresa."

She nodded, her voice only a small flush of air inside her throat. She watched him climb the latter to the cramped compartment, giving a small sigh when he wrapped himself inside the two blankets she had left for him.

She just stood there for a moment, before she undressed in the darkness and crawled into the spacious bunk at the end of the van.

Sleep was not an easy task that night. She almost thought she could hear his breath, and the horrors and pain around her memories were as hot as lava.

Red John, dead. Jane, a killer once again, bloody hands, broken eyes. And she had let him walk. After that, nothing was as it had been, Jane distancing himself more and more, smiling at her with this creepy, apologetic smile all the time, being so far away she could hardly reach him. He had refused to talk to her, stopped participating in the cases. And one day, she had looked for him inside his attic, and he had been gone. Just like that. The only goodbye she got a flaming red rose on her desk that had to come from him.

She startled from a restless slumber, the sheets and blankets plastered to her overheated body, bright sunlight creeping through the dusty windows. The air had already adopted the day's heat, and she unwrapped herself from the tangle of fabric as fast as she could.

She got up and looked for him, but Jane was gone, his blankets folded neatly on the mattress of his sleeping accommodation. An icy fist seemed to grab her heart, and she gasped for breath. No- not again.

She ripped off her clothes, dropping them where she stood, and entered the shower immediately, turning the water to almost ice cold.

But when she stepped out, dripping wet, wrapped in a large towel, Jane stood in the tiny kitchen, staring at her in wonder.

She was self-conscious there for a second, but changing her mind about it fast. He had invaded her home, so she wouldn't be ashamed here.

"I thought you were gone for good."

He smiled a slightly shaky smile.

"I'm glad you obviously weren't relieved about it."

She sighed, clutching the towel a little tighter.

"So- what have you been up to?"

He lifted a paper bag, filled to the brim.

"I've been shopping for carbohydrates at the bakery. Because you definitely look as if you need something to eat, dear Lisbon."

"Great," she muttered under her breath, turning, knowing she wasn't reasonable at all, "I wear nothing but a towel, and all he notices is that I look starved…"

She crawled onto her bed and pulled the curtain closed behind her, wishing there were a proper door to slam with vigor.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Jane bit his lip to stop the chuckle that threatened to escape. But deep inside, his heart felt full and heavy as if it wanted to burst.

He had to tread lightly, just as Cho had said. For as adorable as Lisbon was, she radiated hurt like a beacon. He had dealt an enormous blow when he had left her, without explaining himself, without saying goodbye. But after the last encounter with Red John, who had deliberately created a scenario in which Jane had to kill him without any obvious excuse of self-defense, thus forcing Lisbon to decide between the law and him, a happily ever after had been the last thing on his mind. She had let him walk.

"Go, Jane."

Her words, whispered like a benediction, had echoed in his mind all these months. The last declaration of her love for him. She had betrayed all her principles for him, and that he had always believed she would do it didn't make it less powerful.

He looked to her sleeping area, longing melting his gaze. The curtain was drawn shut, he heard her rummaging behind it, and it comforted him on a level close to his soul.

He shut his eyes. He felt a strong, keen desire for her that made keeping his distance a lot harder than it should have been. All night he had wished he could crawl into her bed and hold her, let her feel the beating of his hungry heart, thundering for her inside its cavity where she had made it swell twice its size, ripe with love and need.

After he had killed Red John, he had just wanted to vanish. Now, he wanted to heal, and she was the beginning and end of that. He would devote his whole life to her, but he had to give her time.

She could still throw him out. And he needed to stay close to her.

When she emerged from what little private space her new home granted her, she looked calm and composed, but very different, dressed in a tank top and shorts, no bra, no shoes, carrying a sense of freedom and relief that appealed to him greatly. But the pain made her shy, like a wounded animal, and he couldn't risk touching her, not now. He had to wait.

Forcing a smile, he presented the basket with baked goods, filled to overflowing. Lisbon bit her lip to stop a grin, and the sight alone made him deepen his smile, its energy flowing freely now, the false cheerfulness replaced by something real. Only she could do this. His salvation after all these years.

"Let's eat outside," she said," I always do."

He nodded and helped her set the table. She looked at the sky, subtly darkening at the edge of her vision.

"We'll have a thunderstorm later, then we're stuck. We can sit inside or escape to the village before the rain hits."

There was a heavy silence between them for several minutes, but he had no trouble staying calm. He knew she would break it eventually. But when she did, her voice was soft and tiny, torn between pain and reason.

"When will you leave, Jane?"

He firmed his stance.

"I won't."

"You have to."

He wanted to touch her, put his fingers beneath her chin, make her look at him. Bring her luscious lips into his reach, seal their fate. But he didn't dare to.

"No matter what you do, Lisbon, no matter how much you want me to… I won't go. I can't. All my thinking, all my searching came down to this, I'm sorry. I can't live with myself. But I can live with you. If you throw me out, I'll follow you."

"I need you to go, Jane."

"Why?"

She made a tiny, desperate sound deep in her throat.

"Why did you leave without a word, Jane?"

He sighed, his body prickling with shame and longing.

"I… I needed to reclaim my life, Lisbon. I didn't even know who I was anymore. And- I didn't know if you still wanted me. You've seen what I've done. You let me walk, Lisbon. Why?"

"Because I love you, you idiot. You know that."

Warmth spread through him, making nerve endings burn.

"You shouldn't do that, Lisbon."

She turned and glared at him.

"Wait- you're forcing yourself on me, but I can't love you?"

He slowly shook his head.

"I'm doing this for me. I'm a selfish bastard, Lisbon. I'm here because I can't live without you, surprise, surprise. But you shouldn't love me. You should slap me and push me away."

She groaned and turned away again, wrapping her arms around her slim torso. She had lost weight, definitely, and he didn't like it.

"I'm trying to do that," she muttered, "but you're not letting me."

"Will you throw me out?" He whispered.

"No."

He came closer, but still didn't dare to touch her. His skin felt fevered with the need to melt against her, feel her warmth, the beating of her heart close to his. It was all he wanted, his sole reason for everything, the answer he had been looking for, right here, with her.

"You can take from me whatever you want, Lisbon. No limits, no boundaries. My belongings, my time, me. It's all I can give you, and it's not much. But I'm giving it, for the chance of doing this trip with you."

She looked at him.

"Who says I'm taking a trip here?"

He grinned.

"Believe me, you will."

She growled low in her chest.

"Will you go once the trip is over?"

He shook his head firmly.

"No. Sorry, Lisbon. You're stuck with me for good."

"What if it's another guy I want?"

"You haven't seen me love sick, Lisbon. It's not beautiful."

"That's true, I haven't seen that," she snorted, and the pain in her voice flowed into his fingertips like an electric current, "I haven't even seen you in love."

He grimaced.

"Ouch, Lisbon. You know I love you. Don't you?"

Her eyes were liquid, greenish sunshine, but the darkness swallowed them whole. He could see it- she had no idea how much he loved her. Had doubted his feelings all the time. Ouch indeed. His obsession had destroyed a lot.

"I have a lot of work to do then." He said softly. "Let's eat, starved little princess. I need to feed you."

TBC

Next chapter up TOMORROW! Again, thank you for reading- by the way: it gets a lot more M in chapter 5...