STAY STRONG! This is the last chapter that will be angsty, chapter 5 will be… something else ;D. little hint: one of them sees reason next chapter, so don't despair! Rescue is near. Chapter 5 is finished (about five minutes ago ;D), so I absolutely GUARANTEE that I will post it tomorrow!

Thank you so much for your ongoing support- I'm so glad you're still with me!

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

Chapter 4

As soon as Lisbon entered her stifling hot hotel room, she raced into the bathroom to wipe the make-up from her face with angry roughness. The mascara was all over her cheeks in black streaks, washed away by the childish tears she had cried on her way home.

Home. Only this wasn't home, and she had no idea how to finish her holidays now. Doing tourist stuff, all alone? She wasn't really in the mood for that. Maybe she would try to get some sleep and head home tomorrow, back to Sacramento, where she could wallow in self-pity on her couch, eating tons of ice cream. Only her stomach felt as if she would never be able to consume food again. She hadn't eaten anything substantial in days and felt slightly woozy, the alcohol she had drank earlier kicking in full force now.

Damn, she was so stupid, behaving like an untried teenager. She was almost glad Jane had saved her from herself, even though he'd been a complete jerk.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. So she didn't really want a random man. And the one she wanted didn't want her. So where did this leave her?

Alone.

Sighing deeply, she let herself sink down onto the soft mattress, begging for a deep slumber she already knew would never come. How had she gotten herself into this mess in the first place? Yesterday, Patrick Jane had been nothing but a cute, annoying difficulty. How had he come to form her whole world?

Some hours later she had tried every trick in the book to finally doze of- no success. Scanning the room for some brainless pastime that would exhaust her enough to fall into a coma, she was interrupted by a tentative knock on the door.

Oh no. When would it ever end?

Xxxxxxxxxx

She opened the door looking so small he dug his fingers into his thighs to stop himself from pulling her close, let her melt into his arms until she stopped shaking.

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them saying anything.

"Can I come in?" He asked softly.

The last thing he wanted was another fight, so he treaded carefully, treating her like the wounded bird she was.

She nodded slowly and let him pass.

The bed was in wild disarray, and she sat down in the middle of it, her back against the headrest. He recognized the defensiveness of the position, she protected her vital parts, avoided showing him her back. He almost groaned in pain. He deserved this, so he shouldn't be surprised.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, careful not to come too close too fast.

"Teresa," he started, "I don't even think I have the words to tell you how sorry I am. I don't know what's the matter with me- Red John's threat has been messing with my mind lately, but that doesn't justify me hurting my best friend, the one person who means most to me. I can't go on without you, Lisbon, and I… freak out when you go where I can't see you, can't protect you."

"Jane," she said calmly, "how often do I have to tell you that you don't need to…"

"I know," he interrupted her, scooting a little closer, "I know you can fend for yourself- you just tackled a serial killer twice your size. But that doesn't change my feelings, Teresa. I need to watch out over you, or I get sick with worry. So can you please indulge me? Stay close and take care, just to reassure me that nothing will happen to you? And NOT try to look hot for crazy murderers who make minced meat out of their victims?"

She smiled, and it was as if the sun was back into his life, warming his frozen skin until it glowed with pleasure.

He moved a little closer.

"There's one thing I need to tell you, Teresa. To me, you are the most beautiful woman in the world, just the way you are. And you don't need to play a role to be gorgeous. Although… that red bikini…"

She slapped his shoulder playfully, and they laughed together, a quiet rumble that helped to clear the air. He fought the need to touch her, like an ache deep inside of him, pushing him closer than he could ever be. Tears rose in his throat, and he desperately wished he could start again, with her, be finally free of the past.

He brushed his fingers through her silky hair, lost and defeated, unable to resist, mesmerized by the way the faint light caught in her dark tresses. She was breathtaking, her mouth small and plump, luscious, made for his kiss. Her eyes glistened with moisture, and it would have been so easy, so temptingly easy to cover the distance and show her how much she truly meant to him.

And still, he couldn't.

"I know you feel alone," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly, "so let's do what we're good at: let's be partners. Spend tomorrow with me, Lisbon. I know some beautiful spots in this area, let me show some of them to you. Let me help you relax. I want to, really."

She sighed. She looked so tired, and he needed to hold her so bad.

"Okay," she said after a while, "why not?"

He smiled his brightest smile, the one he only reserved for her.

"9 a.m. in front of the hotel, okay? Now lay down."

"Why?"

He frowned at her.

"Just do it, Lisbon. Lay down."

When she did so reluctantly, he covered her with the blanket.

He told her whatever came to his mind, making his voice soft and alluring, like a stream of water gently gushing over a bed of smooth pebbles.

Her eyelids became heavy in no time, he saw them flutter shut, her lips parting slightly when she fell asleep.

He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help the urge inside of him. He pressed a gentle kiss on her temple, letting his lips linger just a little, giving her soft skin a short caress with his tongue.

And then, he forced himself to leave.

Xxxxxxxxxx

When he met her the next morning after a thoroughly sleepless night, his idea seemed even more grotesque than it had in the nocturnal hours of insomnia.

Lisbon stood in front of the hotel, her shiny hair resting in luscious waves on her shoulders, her freckles out full force due to the summer sun, wearing a sleeveless green dress that ended several inches above her knee. To say she had great legs would have been the understatement of the century. The soft fabric hugged her frame, showing off her small, firm breasts which perfectly fit her petite body.

He groaned inwardly. How was he supposed to keep things between them harmless when she looked like that?

He had decided to go without the jacket today and rolled up his sleeves to be more comfortable in the heat. He almost blushed when he saw her eyes wander to his bare forearms, the pupils going wide with appreciation. Damn, if he could only do as he wanted…

"Too much?" she asked shyly.

He shook his head.

"You're gorgeous. But forgive me if I have to hit every guy who leers at you."

She chuckled, the slight blush clearly visible on her pale skin.

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the next bus stop, which was only a few steps from the hotel.

"We go by bus?" she asked.

"You see nothing of a city when you sit inside a car, Lisbon," he answered, "this is much better."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Untrue… this was hell. The bus was overcrowded, which meant they had to stay. Close. Close enough for her to feel every detail of his body, the hardness of his chest, his hand on her hip to keep her from stumbling when the bus halted. He pointed out several points of interest, his voice calm and relaxed. So he was obviously unfazed by the closeness between them, that there was practically not an ounce of space left between them.

She suppressed a groan. He was intent on not letting anything happen, but she would enjoy every second shamelessly. This might be all she would ever get, so she would make the best of it.

Leaning back against him, savoring the feeling of his arm going around her middle on instinct, she tried to listen to him, although her focus wasn't the best today.

He led her to the Los Angeles Zoo first. It had been eons since Lisbon had been inside a zoo for anything else than catching killers, and Jane was so utterly enthusiastic it was contagious. He knew every little detail about the animals, the best spots to get treats, the times the different species were fed.

He offered her his cone to taste his choice of ice cream, and she closed her eyes when she lapped at the sweet stuff, childishly thinking it might be the closest she would ever get to a kiss from him.

They lay in the grass and watched the clouds move, talking in soft, hushed voices, whispers meant for nobody but themselves.

She was as relaxed as she hadn't been in years, and he laughed with her, showed her a happiness she had craved all these past months, a reminder that life could be different, perfused by light and warmth. She felt at home in the middle of a foreign city, and all the time he was so close, his hand resting comfortably on her body, a warm, firm weight that kept her focused, the feeling so good she held her breath so he wouldn't stop touching her.

How easy it was to imagine a different universe. She almost cried whenever reality threatened to intrude, but he always managed to do something that made her smile again. He took her hand and led her off to the next adventure, and there was no time to be scared.

She knew the night would come soon, because no matter how much she wished to avoid it, it was never far these days.

xxxxxxxxxx

"I can't crack the shell, Jane," Lisbon whined, looking adorable with her trademark sweet pout.

"It's not a shell, Lisbon," Jane chuckled softly, "it's a carapace, and you don't really need to crack it. The lobster's carapace is divided into several segments, you just have to break the whole thing in half- like this. Then you break every single segment- like this- and peel them off the flesh. Et voila."

"What do you do with these?"

He smiled.

"Lobster tongs. You use them to crack the pincers- like this."

She struggled until he gently took the instrument from her hands and did it for her.

She grinned cheekily.

"Why do I have to eat posh food anyway?"

"You need to try it because it's absolutely delicious."

He filled his fork, dipped it into the sauce and offered it to her. She gingerly took the bite… and closed her eyes in bliss.

"Hmmmmm…. okay, that IS delicious…."

"Told you. This is one of the best restaurants in Los Angeles, and the best lobster around."

He couldn't stop watching her. How tempting to give into the fantasy, to let this day end the way it should. But he couldn't.

She was meant for him. The only one who had managed to crack the icy wall he had built around his heart after he had lost his reason to live. She had protected him, worried for him, saved him countless times. She had cried and longed and finally fallen in love. She deserved to get whatever she wanted.

And still it couldn't be.

He had never doubted that Red John would destroy his life in every aspect possible, so he shouldn't be surprised. But it hurt nonetheless.

When they had finished their dinner he led her outside, into the dark night, the day's heat still palpable around them.

She turned and looked at him, her hair tousled by the slight breeze.

"Thank you, Jane," she whispered, and her voice carried a sadness that made him ache all over, "that was a wonderful day, and I'm never going to forget it."

He smiled at her.

"It's not over yet."

He took her hand and walked her to the pier, where a small boat waited.

She became reluctant then, pulling on his hand to make him stop. He turned and looked at her.

"The day wouldn't be complete without a boat tour through the port of Los Angeles. I'll keep you safe."

But her eyes told him that wasn't the problem. Their closeness was getting to her, and she started to look raw and nervous, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as if she wouldn't be able to hold them back much longer.

He gripped her hand tighter.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, "I'm here."

But he knew it was a lie, the worst of all. She would wake up alone come next morning, and nothing would have changed. Only the ache in her heart would be so much bigger.

He helped her entering the boat and sat down next to her, nodding to the driver before he put his arm around her shoulder when the motor softly hummed to life. The moment his hand came to lie on her bare upper arm, he realized she'd been right: this was a terrible mistake.

He brushed his fingers over her skin and felt goose bumps rise, and his body hummed to life as well. A shiver covered him like a piece of soft fabric, her small, firm body snuggling up against his much larger frame, her warmth seeping through his clothes. He pulled her even closer and pushed his face against her hair, inhaling her scent, fresh and sweet, wrapping around his senses.

Her breath was shallow, a little scared, but he couldn't stop. She turned slightly, her breasts pressing against his chest, and he cursed himself for not ending the night when he still could have done so, for doing this to her when she was so vulnerable to him already.

But when she looked at him, a question, a confession poised in her eyes, he stopped her from voicing it the only way he could. With the caress of his lips. Her taste was the most wonderful he had ever tried, gently detonating on his taste buds like fireworks, whisperingly sweet like a blend of chocolate and cream. He groaned into her mouth and let his tongue invade as soon as her lips parted, her body so close now, not a speck of air between them. He grew hard, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight, and when her hand touched his chest, slowly gliding down over his abdomen, he found the power to stop, breaking the kiss on a horrified gasp.

He pushed her away, much rougher than he had meant to, but it was too late. He would break her heart, and it was all his fault.

He looked at her, saw her fight for composure.

He forced himself to look away.

They finished the tour in silence, both too tired, too desperate to say anything, too occupied to see much around them. Too sad to do anything to make it better.

But when they were about to part in front of their hotel, he turned one last time, catching her eyes, bright as stars.

„Lisbon- please, understand. I can't do this. Not with Red John threatening to kill everything I love. Putting you in my life as my woman would mean to paint a target on your back- I can't do that. It's not because I don't want this- I do. It's not because I don't love you- god, Teresa, I DO. But before Red John is gone, I can't cross this bridge. I don't expect you to wait for me, my sweet. Find happiness, a man who can give you what you need, a future, peace, safety. Try to forget what you feel for me."

She shook her head, slowly, but full of sad determination.

"You know I can't."

"Then we both are doomed."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, her skin so soft and warm, her unique taste brushing against his lips.

And then he turned and walked away.

TBC

Don't worry! Next chapter will earn this story the M-rating- PROMISE! They don't stay sad for long! See you tomorrow!