Damn Cho!
At least he was lucky it was him who walked in on them. Cho wouldn't say anything. Heaven forbid Grace or Rigsby had been the ones to walk in.
Patrick walked briskly through the CBI offices. He had finally done it. He had finally kissed her.
He was risking a lot showing feelings to Teresa Like that. But he had a feeling things were soon going to become very different. The bracelet was a thank you, and an apology at the same time. He had accomplished a lot in his week off. And he was sorry for all the pain he was about to put Lisbon through.
He had hatched a plot to break Lorelei out of prison. As long as certain people did their parts. That was why he was so happy.
He walked up to the elevator.
"Ahh, Cho. Fine morning, isn't it?" he said to Kimball, who was also waiting for the elevator.
"It's Sacramento. It's always a fine morning," Cho said, in his usual tone of pointing out the obvious.
"Fair enough." They both got in the elevator. "Hey Cho, do we need to have a discussion about something?" Patrick asked as the elevator doors closed.
Cho looked at Jane briefly, not a hint of suspicion in his eyes, just his usual blank, unreadable stare. "No, Jane." He said, looking away.
"Fantastic." Jane said, smiling and rubbing his hands together. "See you Cho!" he got off the elevator. He had a certain, powerful Englishman to meet at a theatre.
...
Reflecting on it made him feel miserable and torn. The happiness that had surged through him, the elevation of his spirit as he drove the dark blue sedan through the desert towards Lorelei. Of course she didn't want to see him but that was to be expected. But now, sitting here, back in his apartment, he felt empty.
To be sure, the neckbrace under his chin reminded him of the harsh parting between him and Lorelei, but it reminded him that he was now closer than ever to catching Red John.
But that wasn't what made him feel empty, wasn't what made him feel torn. In fact, he was almost disgusted with himself. He wanted to tell himself that it was pity, that it was a ruse to distract her from Red John, that had allowed him to kiss her again. He thought about it. What was in a kiss? This time he wasn't repulsed by the woman, but instead her affections, her unwillingness to leave at first was his triumph over Red John. After seeing the picture with "ROY" scratched in the floor he felt nothing but sympathy for her. She made her own mess but tenderness was the way to make her see the errors of her way.
But he felt like a traitor. Lisbon was the one who really deserved his affections and kisses. Someone who looked so strong on the outside was so soft and beautiful on the inside. He was a wretched creature to think of anyone else. She cared about him more than anyone else in the world, he knew it from the way she looked at him. It had always been that way, one glance and he knew what she was thinking. Hell, she knew what HE was thinking half the time, but he would never admit it to her. The way she saw into his soul gave him goosebumps, and she deserved more respect than this.
But he couldn't, not just yet. He had dreams, dreams of finally walking into her house, pulling her lithe little body off her couch and rushing her into her room to treat her like a woman should be. He dreamed of tearing off that harsh, business outfit, piece by piece, until he got to the soft, warm pink skin and kissing every inch of her body.
He thought of it now, sitting in his chair. His groin went stiff in his trousers. A lump jumped into his throat, his mind tormented by the waiting game.
What was he going to do now?
His phone rang. He flipped it open, checked the caller ID and answered.
"Teresa! Say, any idea when this neck brace can come off? It's itchy as hell."