"Took you long enough to figure it out, Jane." Teresa rips the tape off Jane's eyes and sits on the sofa across from the bed. "I was running out of clues."
"Yeah, well, no matter where the clues led it seemed impossible that the person torturing me for the past few days would be my best friend." His shattered blue-green eyes fill with tears.
He's embarrassed at his state of undress. Teresa darts forward and briskly straightens his clothes.
"Just so you know, you're everything I thought you'd be, Jane."
She arranges a curl on his forehead. "Your body's exquisite. In perfect proportion. No hideous tattoos. No disfiguring birthmarks. No signs of venereal disease. No hermaphroditic tendencies. No indicators of sexual reassignment surgery. You respond well to a wide range of stimuli."
Her eyes get red. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."
She's hoarse. "That was a last ditch effort to find some…any reason why you've pushed me away the way you have."
He speaks softly. "I would have been glad to fill out a questionnaire if you'd asked me."
She's not listening. She gets up and paces.
"You know when it all became clear to me, Jane?" She stands awkwardly in front of him like a slightly broken doll.
"When you showed me and Kim the shirts for your date."
She swallows hard. "I saw that I now shared my special relationship with Patrick Jane with another repressed, middle-aged woman.
"I did have the distinction of being senior disapproving but titillated woman. The one who could show her just how you like your women's eyes to roll."
"If this is about Kim—"
"It's not about Kim, you son of a bitch!" She shrieks.
She toes off her boots. She peels off her jacket leaving it inside out.
"Look at me, Jane. What are my feelings for you?"
"Well we've been friends for-"
"The truth, Jane. The truth. You can say it. It's all over anyway. After what I've done to you over the past few days. After what I will…may do to you. Just tell it."
He watches her as she pulls off her socks.
"You love me, Teresa."
She points at him. "Yes, thank you, Jane. And for how long?"
"Eleven…no twelve years."
She unbuttons her blouse. There is no tease. She's disrobing.
She tosses the blouse on the sofa.
"And how long have you known that I love you, Jane?"
He avoids looking at her. "Twelve years."
She removes her bra and unzips her pants.
"And how many of these twelve years have you loved me?"
He closes his eyes tight. One tear rolls down the side of his face.
"Patrick?" She steps out of her crumpled pants and, wearing only panties, stands arms crossed in front of him.
"I don't know," he finally says.
"Good. The truth again. Thank you, Jane."
She slips off her panties. "So, what do you think?"
"You're beautiful, Teresa." His voice cracks.
"Pretty good, right?" She turns around. She walks out of sight and returns with her phone. Brings up a photo.
"This is me the year you joined CBI. As you can see, my boobs were perkier. My ass was higher. My waist was smaller. And my neck wasn't crinkly at all."
"Lisbon, why are you-"
"If you had told me you would never love me back then, I would have had a better body to attract someone else with. Not to mention my fertility which is like zero now."
She sits down naked on the sofa.
"But instead, for twelve years, you put me on hold like a phone call. You didn't want to tell me yes and you didn't want to tell me no."
Jane sighs, "It was so much more complicated than that. Red John-"
"You should have made it simple, Jane. And you know it. You're the genius. The one who can calculate the outcomes. If there were only a small chance this outcome…this pathetic charade I'm living…would be mine, you should have stepped up and paid the price."
"You should have told me that you had no interest in me. And I would have built a life with someone else by now."
He shakes his head, "But I didn't know how things-"
"You indulged yourself. You liked the idea of a white marriage."
She rakes her hands through her hair. "And you sent me mixed messages. Parents who send their children mixed messages wind up with psychotic children."
She stretches out on her side on the sofa.
"Never to be boyfriends wind up with psychotic never to be girlfriends."
"Teresa, please untie me." He struggles against the plastic ties.
"You squandered me, Patrick."
She walks over and curls beside him on the bed.
"But enough about me."
