A/N: Thank you for still reading this. Means a lot. Especially today when I'm sad and tired and lonely, because this stupid bronchitis still isn't over yet. Which means I probably won't get to write and post my favourite chapter until next weekend :( But at least I still managed to get this one done. And I hope you like it.


His feet were cold. So was his nose. And his hands. And basically the whole rest of him, with the tiny exception of a spot on his neck, where her breath bathed his skin in a warm caress every time she exhaled. It made him close his eyes — and the prospect of hypothermia a lot more bearable.

Aside from feeling cold, he realised he was starting to feel drowsy. Which wasn't good. He knew he had to rouse Lisbon from her sleep soon. They needed to move. The car only offered them temporary shelter, because without a working battery to power the heating system, the temperature inside the vehicle had already dropped to uncomfortably frosty levels. They needed to find better shelter, somewhere warm and dry and preferably with hot water, a kettle, blankets and a working phone-line.

In that exact order.

He'd spotted a holiday cabin on the map, only two miles from here. Didn't seem far, but two miles in this weather wasn't going to be much fun.

It was better than freezing to death in a rental car, though.

Death.

He swallowed hard against the fear rising inside him.

He'd almost lost her today.

Twice.

It had scared the hell out of him.

Given everything that life had thrown at him up to this point, there were not a lot of things left that could frighten him this deeply. He could, actually, narrow it down to three. Which was, he had to admit, rather scary in itself, so he corrected that number first to three and a half and then on further reflection to four.

Number one on his list of fears — he had of late found he was rather fond of lists — was exactly this scenario:

Losing Lisbon.

It was the one thing he knew would end him.

In quiet moments, when this particular fear crept into his thoughts unannounced and unwelcome, Jane usually closed his eyes and imagined hurling it up the dark stairway, gripping it tight, forcing it down the short dark corridor towards the big door ahead. He imagined pale morning light spilling out from the half open door, pulling him towards the room beyond, beckoning him to come in. But he resisted the urge to step into the room, to be enveloped by familiar scents and sights and memories. Instead he gritted his teeth — as much in the real world as in his mind — and shoved the fear into the room, hastily pulled the door shut and clicked the padlock into place. Then he let himself go downstairs again, matching his breathing to the steps he climbed down. Counting. Breathing. Relaxing. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs he was usually calm again. He tried to ignore the fact that the number of stairs in his mind had no relation to the number of stairs in the real building in Sacramento anymore.

It had more than doubled.

He tried not think about what that meant, because if he did, he might have to imagine an oxygen tank for the next time he climbed into the attic.

Fears number two and number three on his list were in a way directly linked to number one, so he never gave them much thought and/or worry. Cause and effect. If he prevented number one from happening, the rest would never be an issue.

He'd almost lost her today. Twice. And that wasn't even counting the prospect of her moving away with another man.

If he included that, the number would rise to three.

Which was unacceptable.

He knew she was always going to put herself in danger. That came with the job. And the job was an essential part of her that nothing and no one had the right to take away from her. So there wasn't much he could do about that. Well, at least not much more than he already did. Keeping her safe. Looking out of her. Even though he knew about 90 percent of the time she didn't need it. But those remaining ten percent he had covered. As long as he was her partner. As long as he was at her side.

Which he wouldn't have been anymore if she'd moved to New York with Pike. Which meant a ten percent increase in the chances of her being wounded or killed on the job.

Those odds were also unacceptable.

She stirred, pressing her nose further into his neck, a shiver running through her. She was cold.

"Lisbon", he called softly.

She made an unhappy noise and frowned, then slowly opened her eyes and blinked herself awake in a mixture of confusion, embarrassment and annoyance. He smiled at her.

"This is your requested wakeup-call."

In a way, he thought, it was rather one for him than her.

He needed to stop wasting time. He needed to change the odds. In his favour. In their favour. Soon. And forever.

Lisbon's frown deepened as she sat up. There was an odd expression on Jane's face, but before she could begin to make sense of it, he'd replaced it with a smile.

One of the kind that didn't really reach his eyes.

"How long was I out?", she asked, knowing that asking anything else wouldn't lead to an honest answer.

"About fifteen minutes", Jane said, wiping a hand across the steamy window to get a better view. "I think the storm is getting weaker. Lisbon, there's a holiday cabin two miles from here, maybe we should try and get there."

She massaged her shoulder, then rotated it experimentally. The pain was gone, replaced by a dull and faint ache. Which meant that, except for a big bruise, she'd probably be fine.

"A two mile walk in a snow-storm? You think that's a good idea, Jane? We could get lost. And even if we find the cabin, what if it's locked?"

He rolled his eyes at her and raised his hands.

"Seriously? What if it's *locked*? That's insulting, Lisbon."

"No, that's breaking and entering, Jane."

"It's an emergency!"

She gave it some thought. He was right. Staying here was not an option. No one would be coming looking for them any time soon. And by the time they did, it would probably be too late. She sighed.

"Okay. You're right. Lets go."

Jane was also right about the storm. It was a little less severe and once they had entered the forest and left the ravine, the clearing and the road behind, the trees provided some additional shelter. Lisbon could see the storm raging on above them, tearing at the tree-tops, bending them back and forth, howling at branches, leaves, needles and at the forest itself. Down on the path they were travelling on, the wind was nothing more than a whisper in comparison.

But it was still freezing cold.

Jane was walking in front of her, the map sticking out of his left jacket-pocket. They had followed the path for a few minutes, when he suddenly turned his head to look at her.

"How is your shoulder?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine. The nap in the car helped. Thanks…. for that."

She felt herself blushing. Jane grinned, shortening his stride, until she had no choice but to walk next to him. She glared at him. A clear warning not to cross the line.

"I bet it did. You were out like a light."

For once it seemed to work.

"Did you dream about something nice?"

Or not.

"I didn't dream, Jane."

"Sure you did. I can tell. What did you dream about?"

She shrugged, then winced, then shook her head.

"I'm telling you. About nothing. Everything was just… white."

"Ah."

She frowned at him irritably. "That's it?"

"That's what?"

"You poke and prod me to tell you and then all you have to say about it is "ah"?"

He shrugged.

"What more do you want me to say about it?"

She rolled her eyes at him, then gave an exasperated huff.

"Nothing, Jane, it's not important."

"Then why do you want me to have an opinion about it?" he asked raising his eyebrows in a mixture of curiosity and smugness. It was a sure way to get her annoyed with him.

"I don't… urgh… Jane.."

"Don't "Jane" me", he interrupted her. Instead of walking steadily on, he decided to take a couple of skipping steps, grinning at her broadly when her glare intensified. Which wasn't helping. Because instead of getting him to behave like an adult, it only made him laugh.

"So you dreamt of white", he said, returning to a normal pace. "You know why that is, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes at him again.

"Jeez, I don't know, Jane, maybe because we're stuck in a snowstorm?"

"Nah, that's not it", Jane said. "Do you know what the colour white represents?"

"Anger? Annoyance? The urge to kick you?"

"Purity. And innocence and… hey, don't snort at me… you dreamt about it, not me."

"Now that goes without saying. There is nothing innocent about you."

"Thank you, I take that as a compliment", Jane said, winking at her.

"New beginnings, Lisbon. A clean slate."

Lisbon stumbled over the root of a tree hidden beneath the snow, but managed to find her balance again, before Jane could reach out a hand to steady her. She shook her head.

"Sorry, what?"

"White. Clean slate. Blank canvas. The colour of new beginnings."

He stole a careful glance at her, bending his back and lowering his head to look beneath the hood of her jacket.

"That ring a bell?"

Lisbon looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. So does it? Ring a bell? Jog your memory? Put down…"

"Can you shut up for a while? Seriously, stop irking me, Jane."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, made a big step that ended with pushing his foot harder than necessary into the snow and let out a whining sigh.

"I'm cold, Lisbon. It's not my fault. I'm always irksome when I'm cold."

"You're always irksome. Full stop."

"Don't change the subject. It won't work."

"I'm not. You're being irksome is always a subject as far as I am concerned."

"Fine. Ok, don't talk to me." he said with a pout. "But if you don't, I'll be cross and sad on top of being cold and we still have quite a long walk ahead of us."

She tilted her head, glad he couldn't properly see the small smile on her face, then said in something she hoped would resemble shock:

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. Just saying."

"What? That if I don't entertain you, you're going to behave like a five-year-old?"

"Are we there yet, Lisbon? Are we there yet?"

Lisbon laughed and threw up her arms in surrender.

"Ok, fine, fine. I'll talk to you."

He grinned. "Good. Any specific subject you want to talk about?", he asked in a casual tone.

"How about saving energy by observing silence while outside in freezing temperatures?", she replied with a sweet smile.

"Meh. Come on Lisbon, I'm freeeeeezing here", he pleaded with her, wrapping his arms around himself and making rubbing motions to emphasise his point.

"I need distraction from all this… cold."

She bit her lower lip, feeling a little guilty. She'd almost forgotten he was missing an essential layer of winter clothing.

"Want my jacket for a while?", she offered.

"No. Because then you will be cold, too. And that will make you a lot more irritable than I am at the moment."

She laughed. "Yeah, right…"

He gestured around them.

"Ok. No talking. So how about a game then?"

"Jane…"

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with s."

She rolled her eyes again.

"Oh please…"

"What?"

The pleading, innocent puppy look he gave her made her insides melt. And he knew exactly that it did. Bastard. But he was a miserably freezing bastard right now and if it distracted him from the cold for a little while, what harm could it do?

She slid the hood back a little to widen her field of vision, then gave him an amused smile.

"S… really", she tapped her mouth with a finger, then raised her eyebrows at him mockingly.

"Bit disappointing. I would have expected you to come up with something more creative than snow."

He grinned and shook his head. "It isn't snow."

"No?"

"No."

Now she was intrigued. There was nothing else around them than snow. And trees. And more snow. And more trees. And them.

"Ok, let me think… can't be shoelaces, because you don't have any anymore."

"Don't remind me.." Jane scoffed, stumbling along beside her in the snow. It was much harder to walk when your shoes weren't really firmly attached to your feet anymore and were scooping up snow with every step you took.

"Sycamore tree", Lisbon said.

"No."

Jane motioned for her to stop, then, with an excited smile on his face, pointed up into a tree. Lisbon followed his line of sight. There was clump of leaves and twigs lodged between two thick branches, a ball of brown and green and white. Lisbon narrowed her eyes. In the middle of the ball was a small hole and a little nose sticking out of it.

"Squirrel", Jane said triumphantly. "Cute, isn't it?"

"Don't they hibernate?"

"Technically? No. They just sleep a lot when it's cold."

The nose disappeared back into the nest.

"I bet it's warm and cosy in there", Jane said with a long depressed sigh.

"Yeah, I bet. Come on, Frosty, get a move on."

She ushered him on with an impatient wave of her hand. He huffed at her indignantly.

"No need to be mean", he complained.

"There's always a need to be mean when you start whining", she replied.

"I'm not whining."

"Yes you are."

"Then tell me something. Distract me."

"Why would I?"

"Because I saved your life?"

She flinched. Then pretended to re-adjust the straps on the backpack and slowed her steps, bringing some distance between them. He cursed himself. That hadn't been fair. Or funny. Hastily scrambling back to safer conversational territory he said.

"Alright. How about I tell *you* something?"

He could feel Lisbon rolling her eyes at him behind his back.

"This will be a monologue about a not very funny fun fact, am I right? Something like "Did you know, Lisbon, that Eskimos have a hundred different words for snow…", she mumbled.

"Actually, Lisbon,… the Eskimo-Aleut languages have about the same number of distinct word roots referring to snow as English does, but their structure allows more variety as to how those roots can be used in forming a word. So…"

Jane felt something hit the back of his jacket.

"I'm more interested in the number of distinct word roots referring to the term smart-ass in English."

"Funny", he growled without turning round.

She tilted her head. "No, I'm pretty sure that's not one of them."

He had to duck to pass safely under the low hanging branch of a tree. Once he was almost clear, he managed to brush it with his shoulder ever so slightly. The branch moved and his action had the desired effect: It resulted in a yelp from somewhere behind him. He grinned, the sounds of Lisbon brushing the snow from her jacket mingled with something that was definitely a creative variation on the word root discussed before.

Then another snowball hit the back of his jacket.

"Who is acting like a five-year-old now?", he called over his shoulder, then with a cry of fear jumped behind the nearest tree in search for cover, when something whizzed past his left ear.

Another snowball hit the tree with a thump.

"I surrender!", he called out to her, waving the map at her like a white flag.

Lisbon laughed, when very slowly a few blonde curls emerged from behind the tree, then a forehead, then one careful eye and the tip of a nose. Somehow Jane looked a lot like the squirrel in the tree.

"Really? That was easy", she said in slightly surprised triumph. The rest of Jane re-emerged from behind the tree.

"Yeah, well. You're a cop and you grew up with male siblings. Which means: Better aim, more efficient strategies and tactics, because you had lots of practice at this. I know when I am faced with a superior player. No use drawing it out. Cut your losses and hang your head in shame."

She laughed and shook her head at him. He grinned happily at her, clearly pleased with himself that he'd made her laugh. Which, she realised, had been his goal all along. This had never been about distracting him. It had been about distracting her.
Her laughter faded and she gave him a long look. He stood there, holding her gaze. She sighed, then shrugged, then started walking. He fell into step beside her. Silent. Waiting.

"Alright. Fine." she finally said, taking a deep breath.

"Marcus got a promotion. He will be heading up the New York field office. Starting in two weeks. And he's asked me to come with him."

When she fell silent again, Jane inquired. "And what was your answer?"

She gave him an angry look, then snorted, slightly irritated by his soothing almost fatherly tone.

"As if you didn't know."

"I don't", he said carefully. "I know what your choice was. And I can see that something about it clearly distresses you. Distresses you so much that you don't even want to discuss it with yourself, let alone me."

"Yeah, well, what did you expect? That I'd be happy about being forced to break up with him? Of course that distresses me, Jane!"

"Interesting choice of words", Jane said.

"Jane. Don't", it came out as a low growl, the words in it barely audible. He ignored the warning and went on.

"Forced to. As if this wasn't your choice? Beyond your control?"

"Becaue it wasn't", she barked. "It was his."

"How so?"

"He made the choice to accept the job without telling me…"

"Which you cannot really blame him for. It's his career after all."

"He also made the choice to get *me* a job there without telling me. A better one than I have here."

"Okay… "

"And he made the choice to buy a bloody flat for us to move into together without telling me either. Even set a date for the move."

"Ouch."

Jane made a face and flinched. He felt almost sorry for Pike now. No faster way to make her run than making her feel out of control.

"I mean", Lisbon said throwing her hands in the air to vent some of the nervous energy now suddenly rippling through her again. "It was as if I had nothing to say in the matter, as if what I wanted didn't count. As if this wasn't a choice at all."

Jane knew how easy it would be to agree with her. To feed her anger at Marcus. To make her think this whole relationship with him had been a mistake. It was so tempting. To use the right words in just the right tone of voice. To put emphasis on just the right phrases, to touch her at the right time, to look at her the right time. So bloody tempting to manipulate her into casting Marcus out for good. To make himself the better man by making her despise the other one. So tempting to take this shortcut that was right in front of him.

"Lisbon…"

Her name on his tongue snapped him out of it. Lisbon. This was Lisbon. The temptation was gone.

"He wanted to surprise you. To spoil you. Do something monumental for you to prove his worth. You can fault his choice of gift. But you can't fault his intentions."

When Lisbon rolled her eyes this time, he was afraid they might come out of their sockets.

"How is it that guys always stick together, huh? Why are you defending him? You hate him!"

"Hate is a strong word. And this isn't about me. This is about you."

Lisbon bristled with outrage.

"Oh, all over sudden? You've been a pest for weeks, trying to mess with my relationship with him and now that it's over this is suddenly none of your business anymore?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Lisbon!" Jane's voice rose to match hers. "Your well-being will always be my business! Always! Even at times when you clearly don't want it to be."

He tried to calm him voice down. "Look", he said with a sigh. "All I am saying is, that he didn't do this to take away your choices. He simply assumed you would the same ones as he did."

She lowered her head.

"Which I clearly didn't…", she said quietly.

"So you don't want a better job in New York?"

"No."

"Or the lovely flat that tries not to look expensive but clearly is?"

"Hell, no."

"Why?"

She blinked at him, ready to burst into another fit of anger. When she saw the same serious curiosity in his face that she'd heard in his voice she was taken aback. She had expected him to grin knowingly at her, letting her see that he'd already figured out her reasoning before she herself had. But he hadn't rushed ahead, hadn't rummaged around in her head to be the first to find the answer. He was with her. Right here. Right now. Waiting for her to find it.

And to tell him.

"Because…" she started, then fell silent, then tried again. "Because I don't want to live in New York. I don't want to switch jobs again. I don't want to move in with him. I mean, I like him. I really do and we've had a really good time, but…"

She shrugged. "At the end of the day I don't think that's enough for such a big commitment."

"He clearly thinks it is", Jane said softly, stepping over a rock in the middle of the path. His left boot feel almost off his foot. He glowered at it, unhappy at the distraction.

"He'd do anything to make you happy", he said once the renegade boot was back where it belonged.

She shrugged again. "I know he'd try. I know he would. But I don't think he'd succeed. I don't think…"

She hesitated. He made sure to keep eye-contact, not turning his gaze back on the path, not even breathing, concentrating everything he was, everything he had on communicating to her the one thing he needed her to understand.

That she could trust him.
With everything that really mattered.
Always.

"I don't think… I'd let him."

It was nothing more than a breath, a whisper so small, the words wrapped up in an almost sound proof bubble of defeat, that Jane almost didn't catch them.

He started breathing again.
But blinking was still out of the question.
Even though his eyes started burning.

"I…", she gave another helpless shrug, then a short humourless laugh. "I think part of me wanted this to fail, is relieved that it did", she admitted.

The path suddenly became steep, leading up through the forest to a clearing. They had to put some effort into their movements now and fell silent during the short climb.

Carefully putting one foot in front of the other, Lisbon remembered the very last words Marcus had said to her. After hours of silence on the road, he'd suddenly turned to her when they were forced to wait at a red light.

"This was never going to last, was it? Because that's not what you do, is it? Long-term relationships? Real closeness? Sharing your life with someone?"

"Marcus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't come with you."

He nodded. "I have to accept that. And I'm sorry, too."

He had fallen silent again, then suddenly raised his head in surprise and looked at her.

"Is that what Jane is all about?"

"What?"

"You and Jane. Is that why it's working? Why it's different with him? Why he's the only man in your life who's still around after more than a decade? Because he's the safe option?"

She was too stunned to be angry at him. "You do know Patrick Jane, don't you? How is that man ever going to be a safe option?"

Marcus shrugged. "Because you never *had* to let him get too close, did you? You wanted him when you couldn't have him and now that you could, you have a dozen reasons why you won't. Or maybe just one."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm right, am I not? You had feelings for him, but circumstances were preventing you from ever acting on them. Safe option. And now that those circumstances are gone and nothing prevents you from acting on your feelings, you just pretend they don't exist anymore. As I said. Safe option."

At the time she'd dismissed it as outrageous, but now, here, in the middle of nowhere, thinking back on it, it made her wonder.

What if he was right about her?
On both counts?

They had reached the top of the climb and were catching their breaths. Once they started walking again, Jane was looking at her with a calm intensity again, fixing his attention, all his attention on back on her. She returned his gaze with uncertainty.

"And you think that means you're what, Lisbon? A bad person? A hopeless case of commitment anxiety?"

She looked away and shrugged.

"I don't know. You tell me."

He shook his head. "Teresa."

The use of her first name brought her eyes back to his. When he had her attention again, he said.

"Maybe all it means is that your subconscious is telling you that he's simply not the right man for you."

She gave a short laugh, pushing her hands deeply into her pockets.

"Maybe. I mean, you didn't think he was. And as much as I hate to admit it, you're usually good at these things", she mumbled into her scarf.

"True, but… "

Now it was his turn to hesitate. She looked up at him again. He was clearly wrestling with something. To any outsider it wouldn't be obvious, but she could tell. He gave her a lopsided grin and a little shrug.

"… my judgment in this case may have been clouded for… very, very selfish reasons."

She stared at him. Then blinked. Did he just… blush? Did Patrick Jane just blush? And let her see it? Before she could even begin to process any of it, he stopped dead in his tracks and the grin on his face spread into a wild smile. He raised his arms into the air.

"Shelter! Civilisation! Tea!"

In front of them, rising out of the white wilderness was the dark structure of a building.

Jane gave a happy little hoot and started running.

"Come on, Lisbon. I promise if it takes me more than 30 seconds to pick that lock, you're allowed to use all the hot water in the shower."

She felt a smile lighting up her face.

And chased after him.