So, this one is a little angsty. This one arrived courtesy of the story bunnies who were not happy at how sick I have been. Bronchitis is not the fun it's cracked up to be.

DISCLAIMER: I was trying to get the doctor to prescribe them, but no luck. They still belong to CBS and Heller

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LESSON LEARNED

"Lisbon Loafers"

Patrick Jane didn't think Teresa Lisbon heard that. She did. Frankly she was a little disappointed in him. Like so many men, who saw a strong woman doing a traditionally man's job, he bought into the stereotype. Because she was a cop and had to dress professionally and for action, he assumed that the sensible, boring shoes she wore were her first choice in fashion. Like so many stereotypes about women who were cops, it was so ridiculous. That people couldn't make the obvious realization that you can not chase and apprehend bad guys wearing stilettos or cute sandals was a little obnoxious.

Yeah, people commented on being able to spot cops by their shoes in general. Again, on your feet, expected to be ready to chase a perp, you are wearing a certain type of shoes. But just as the men didn't wear those shoes off duty, neither did she.

To be honest, like a lot of women, she liked shoes. Being a little shorter, she liked heels. But the problem is that she was called into work on a moment's notice so often that wearing them often was a little impractical. But when she wore them, boy did she love the good ones. She only had a couple of pairs of designer shoes. They were too expensive on her salary, but she had bought them for an occasion each time.

There was one pair that had only ever seen the light of day, or evening actually once. They were a pair of Gold Jimmy Choo's. And they were a thing of beauty, a piece of art. They went perfectly with that gold gown she bought for the Mayor's award dinner right after the McTeer case. She honestly bought the shoes first. She couldn't help it. They were gorgeous. It took 2 solid days of shopping to find a dress to match the Gold 4 inch heels with the intricate black lace.

There are times in every woman's life that when she is dressed in a killer outfit, feels good about herself and the hair and everything works, she knows she is at her very best. For Teresa Lisbon, it was one of those nights. She was to meet her team from the SFPD at the Grand Hotel. They had a table and were all excited about the evening ahead. She was going dateless officially. Unofficially, she couldn't wait for him to see her like this.

She honestly didn't think the rest of their team knew about them. Sure they knew that he had taken to mentoring her. They knew that the two had become close. They also assumed that Lisbon was working too hard to be a bad ass cop and great investigator to risk it all. They all assumed wrongly.

They would still have to be circumspect and careful tonight. But she knew his eyes would briefly light up when he saw her. He would give her that wry half smile that she loved. She was on top of the world that night.

What she learned was the only way to go from the top of the world was down. She learned not to forget what her past experiences had taught her. If things are too good, hang on, they will fall apart. She had forgotten with him for a short time.

From the top of the stairs at the ballroom entrance, she paused. She had never attended anything so swank. She wanted to drink in the moment. It didn't occur to her that she made quite a picture, a beautiful woman in a gold dress with great legs showcased by the dress and shoes. He spotted her immediately. He could always sense her presence. She had a strength and vitality that pulled at the slightly weary cop in him.

Their eyes met, and his widened in appreciation. Her smile grew wider and then froze on her face. Instead of the welcoming half smile, he gave her the slightest apologetic shrug with his free arm. His other arm was around a woman. She was tall, thin, blond and beautiful. On her left hand was the gold ring he had given her years before. Clearly he neglected to mention she was coming.

Teresa gathered herself and walked down those stairs with most of the luster off the evening. She was dateless in all senses of the word. She was dressed to kill and she suddenly didn't care. She wanted her pajamas and slippers. She steeled herself to just force herself through the evening. What were a few hours?

As she approached them all, she took in the perfect black dress on the taller blond. It looked expensive, but she knew his wife came from money. In typical cop detail, she took in all the details, the hair, jewels and shoes. MY GOD, the shoes. How could she be wearing the same damn shoes??? The first time in her life she buys designer shoes and his wife is wearing the same shoes.

The rest of the evening was a miserable blur. She was sure she smiled and said all the right things. She knew she got the hell out of there as soon as possible. It was a turning point in her life. She never discussed it with him, but she never again saw him outside work. It was over. She picked up the pieces of herself and threw herself into the new challenge of working at CBI.

But those shoes, oh those shoes. They were carefully wrapped up and put away. She couldn't wear them again. She couldn't get rid of them. They became a reminder to her why she wore Lisbon Loafers.

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I just thought his comments about the shoes and clothes were obnoxious. So, this is the answer. Reviews make me breathe better???