A/N: I have another long chapter for you, I hope you don't mind, but it just didn't make sense to split it up into two separate chapters. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter, and to all the guest reviewers to whom I cannot personally thank. Your support has made me so happy, you guys are awesome! :-)

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.

It was four hours later when the two of them awoke from their restful slumber. Neither had realised they had fallen asleep but upon awakening they both felt more relaxed than they had been in weeks. Teresa especially felt like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She was the first to wake up and as she opened her eyes, she realised she had fallen asleep in his arms for the second time. A small smile briefly graced her lips, she could get used to this, she thought, but no sooner had that thought entered her mind than it was replaced by the embarrassment that she had fallen asleep unwittingly in his arms for the second time. She slowly turned her head upwards in an attempt to see his face, his eyes were still closed and his breathing slow and even; he was still sleeping. She carefully began to move his arm which was draped across her stomach when she heard him murmur something. She stopped but when she saw that he was still asleep continued in her attempt to untangle his arm from her body. "Mmm Teresa…" he said.

She stopped again and listened, waiting to hear if he would say anything more but when she didn't she slowly tried to sit upright. She was stopped halfway as Patrick's hold on her tightened. "Teresa…" he mumbled again and she wondered if he was actually talking to her or just talking in his sleep. His next words gave her her answer. "dance with me."

She smiled and her curiosity was peaked. She wanted to listen to more but a pang of guilt took over and she decided to wake him up. "Patrick," she whispered softly.

"So beautiful….Teresa..."

She blushed but could not keep the smile off her face, "Patrick, wake up!" she said again, her voice a little louder this time. He opened his eyes and was greeted by her smiling face, her two emerald green eyes gazing at him fondly.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

"I don't know, I fell asleep too!" she told him. He smiled at the little blush forming on her cheeks.

"Well I guess we both needed it," he said and then noticed that his arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. "Sorry he said, and then gently let her go. "Are you okay Teresa?"

She was touched by the obvious concern in his voice and felt instantly bereft when his arm left her body and she began to wish she hadn't woken him. He noticed that she hadn't moved, even though he was no longer holding her in place and he too was now smiling. "I'm fine Patrick," she told him. "I...I...just…" she looked at his smiling face, so warm and kind and she felt overcome with a rush of affection just then at the thought of how he had comforted her. He had been nothing but sweet gentle and a part of her wanted nothing more than to reach out and run her fingers through his wonderful golden curls. To softly kiss his head the way he had kissed hers in the hope that she could help ease some of his pain too. She looked into his eyes and saw that the pain that haunted him was still there, ever present, just hiding behind closed doors. She felt her arm move instinctively towards his face but she stopped just above his shoulder, she tapped him lightly there, "I need to get up!" she said as she tried to repress her thoughts about him. She knew he wasn't ready for that yet. What she didn't know was that Patrick had been reading her expressions, he knew how she felt about him, her eyes were the most expressive he'd ever seen and they were telling him stories of affection and tenderness. He felt his heart skip a beat and decided to let her stand before his body had a chance to react to her.

Teresa made to leave when Patrick called out to her, "Where are you going?" he asked.

She turned around, "Home," she told him.

"What about our walk?"

"You still want to do that?"

"Yes! Just look how beautiful it is outside, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides, I think a little fresh air might do us some good!"

Teresa couldn't help the smile at that. "Okay, let's go for a walk."

The warm Sacramento sun shone brightly as the two of them walked side by side. Patrick stole a glance in her direction every so often, noting the tension in her posture and the faraway look in her eyes. He knew she was still upset over what had happened earlier, he knew it must have been very difficult for her to talk about it. As they passed a bakery, Patrick stopped and said, "Let's get something for later?" and then he took her arm and pulled her inside. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweet frosting immediately hit them as they walked through the door. Patrick walked up to the counter and asked for some sandwiches for both of them and a muffin for him. He was just about to ask Teresa what she wanted when he saw her looking at the pastries and smiled. "Bear claw?" he asked as he followed her line of sight.

She smiled guiltily. "I really shouldn't. I know I should eat more healthily."

"A bear claw too please," he told the woman behind the counter and then turned to Teresa, "You really should, but today is all about having fun!" he winked at her and she smiled. She reached into her purse to take out her wallet when Patrick stopped her. "Put that away Teresa, it's on me."

"Patrick you don't have to do that,"

He smiled, "I want to!" he told her then proceeded to pay for their food and when he had finished the two of them walked out of the bakery and headed for the lake.

The late afternoon sun shone in the sky when they arrived at the lake about half an hour later. The place was relatively quiet and Patrick was glad they had decided to come on a weekday. "There!" he said pointing to a nice quiet, shady spot in the distance. "That's a perfect place to sit for a while." He said and Teresa laughed.

"I thought we were going for a walk? Don't tell me you're tired already?" she teased and he smiled, mischievously.

"I'm only thinking of you Teresa," he teased back and she punched him in the arm.

"Hey! I bet I can out-walk you any day!" she challenged.

"Oh yeah, well I bet you can't outrun me!" he said and then took off running. Teresa was momentarily taken off guard but soon took off at speed after him and soon caught him up, "What's the matter Patrick? Slowing down already?" she said and then sprinted off in front of him. "Forgot to mention, I ran track in high school!" she shouted and he shook his head as he too picked up speed.

"Now you tell me!" he breathed and then laughed.

A few seconds later Teresa felt Patrick catch up with her and she tried to run faster. She chanced a quick look behind and saw that he was almost by her side, a huge grin playing upon his face and as he came up to her and nudged her shoulder with his, causing her to falter a little but Teresa gave as good as she got and nudged his arm with hers. They were almost at the end of their run when Patrick tried to knock her off course for the second time but she ducked away at the last second, completely taking Patrick off guard and causing him to stumble and he fell at her feet just as they arrived at their destination. "I win!" she said in triumph as Patrick was picking himself off the ground.

"Only because I fell!" he replied but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Well, that's what you get for cheating!" she retaliated.

"Also, I was holding this!" he said, holding up the bag from the bakery. "It slowed me down, I couldn't use my arms for speed like you could!"

"Oh my God! Is the bear claw okay?" she joked.

He raised his eyebrows in incredulity at this and she laughed. Patrick looked inside the bag and then looked up at her and said in a serious tone, "Thankfully there were no casualties!" this response provoked a fit of giggles from Teresa. Patrick looked at her in wonder and couldn't help giggling himself.

They sat down together on the ground and Patrick took a deep breath as he leaned against the tree, reveling in the beauty of nature surrounding them. He sighed, "Oh I wish I could spend the rest of my life here," he said, "it's so beautiful, so peaceful."

Teresa looked around, "It's a great place to escape to." She added.

"What would you be escaping from?" He asked, curious.

"Life. Just everything, I don't know," she looked at him, "do you ever wish you could just start again? Do everything over?"

"Hmm," he pondered the question for a moment, "you mean like, go back in time and fix your mistakes?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Sometimes, but honestly, I don't think it'll do any good."

Tilting her head to the side she asked, "Why not?"

He turned to his side to face her, "Because even though we may fix what we've done wrong, we're bound to make new mistakes, and who knows, they may be even worse. The past is just best left as it is, no matter how much it hurts. I think trying to move on is more important." He paused, "Although, sometimes I think time travel would be easier." He let out a small laugh but it was clear to Teresa there was real pain behind the gesture.

Teresa nodded, "It's hard." She agreed, "Sometimes...I would think of all the good times we had together and I feel…loss. I feel like I'm ready to forgive him for everything and take him back just so we can have those times again." She looked down at her hands, "Before the drinking started we had a good marriage...but then I remember…and I know I could never have those times again. It's gone."

"I know." He whispered, "What really hurts…" he began, feeling his eyes fill with tears, "is knowing that the last moments I spent with him...those will always be the last memories I will ever have of him," He sniffed as a single tear fell, "there'll be no more new memories." He wiped away the tear and realised that Teresa's eyes had also begun to water. He watched her hands as they began to rummage around in her purse. A few seconds later, she pulled out a box of matches.

"I've been carrying this around with me for six years!" she told him.

"A matchbox?"

"This was…" she paused, reconsidering her words, "we had been dating for a while and there was this one evening he had invited me over to his place for dinner, but in the middle of our meal the power went out." her laugh was tinged with a bitter-sweetness as she continued, "we were in total darkness but then Jack found some candles and he lit them with one of the matches from this box. We ate our dinner by candlelit and then we ended up cuddling on the sofa. That was the first time he told me he loved me." Her voice was choked with emotion. She looked ahead at the trees and the body of water and inhaled deeply. "This was supposed to help me remember the good times…but lately it's become a weight." She looked at him, "I want to let it go Patrick, I just want to let it all go."

Patrick watched her intently, tapping his bottom lip as he considered her words. "I know what you need do!" he said as he sat upright.

Teresa looked at him askance as he began to dig the ground in front of then with his hands. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"This was a technique I used to use when I was a drama coach." He explained, "We're going to have a 'letting go' ceremony!"

"A what?" she asked.

"When any of my students was having problems focussing on their acting we would have a letting go ceremony. You take an object that is the manifestation of your problem and you bury it."

"What are we, twelve?" She said, skeptically.

He looked up at her and rolled his eyes, "Off course it doesn't fix the problem completely, but the mind is a powerful tool. If you really concentrate while you bury it, really believe that you are bury the past, the pain with it, it will help you take the next step Teresa, it will help you to move on."

"I don't know…"

"Just trust me?" he asked and she relented. She held the matchbox over the hole in the ground that he had dug and looked over at him. He nodded, "Let it go Teresa." He said and with a trembling hand she dropped it inside. "Now bury it, bury the past, break free of the pain he has caused you, of the hold he has on you!" She began to cover the matchbox with the dirt, feeling a deep sadness as the little box slowly began to disappear from view, knowing she would never see it or hold it in her hands again. When she had finished she just sat there, unmoving, until she felt a warm hand on her back. "Are you okay?" he asked softly as he knelt beside her.

She nodded, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears from falling. "I just didn't expect it to feel so...real," she explained.

"I know," he soothed and encouraged her to sit back down again.

A brief silence ensued as he let her collect her thoughts before he asked, "Why would your brothers tell your ex-husband about your money problems after everything he did to you?"

"They always loved Jack," she replied, "to them, he was this amazing guy who could do no wrong in their eyes. They blamed me for the divorce. They said I was a workaholic, obsessed with my novel that I couldn't see that my marriage was falling apart because of it!" She paused, attempting to quell the wave of anger she felt rising up inside of her, "All except Tommy. He always took my side."

Patrick looked shocked, "But the abuse and...the baby?"

"They didn't know." She looked at him, "I never told them."

"Why?"

"'Cos they wouldn't have believed me anyway. On top of everything that happened, I didn't want to be called a liar as well. Tommy would have believed me but he can't keep secrets, he would have told everyone."

"So you mean that me and…"

"Yes, you, Grace and her fiancé are the only ones who know...and I'd like it to stay that way!" he eyes were pleading his silence.

"Come here," he said as he held his arms open. She moved to sit next to him as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not going to tell anyone Teresa. I swear."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, each caught up in their own thoughts until Teresa broke the silence. "What about you Patrick? What are you going to bury for the letting go ceremony?" Patrick didn't answer her but just stared at the rippling water before him. "Patrick?" she asked again.

"I don't have anything I can let go of," he answered, "to be honest Teresa, I don't think I'm ready. The only things I have left of him are a few trophies and his Forty-niner's jersey!" He smiled in reminiscence, "He wore it to rehearsals, said it brought him luck. I told his mother she should keep it but she insisted that I have it! It's all I have left of him...I...I just can't let it go, not yet."

Teresa nodded in understanding, "Tell me about him, about Alejandro?" she asked, "tell me about all the good times." Patrick smiled and began to tell her his story about how he came to know the boy whom he had thought of as his son. Teresa listened intently, noting the warmth of love in his eyes as he narrated each event.

Before they knew it, dusk had begun to settle and it was starting to get dark. Patrick crumpled up the now empty bag from the bakery and disposed of it in a trash can as the two of them began to walk home. Patrick walked her to her front door and before saying goodbye Teresa looked at him and smiled. "Thank you for today Patrick, I really needed this."

He smiled and shrugged, "I just thought you'd like a change from my messy house!" he joked.

"It's not that bad," she said.

"That's not what you said earlier!" his voice had become softer, his pupils widening at the way she bit her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth.

Her eyes discreetly roamed his body as he spoke and she noticed how handsome he looked in the moonlight. Her body was reacting to him and she realized she had to get inside before she did something she knew she would regret. The way he looked at her; his eyes full of tenderness but with a hint of mischief, she wanted him badly but she knew that Patrick Jane was not a one night stand. They had begun to develop a friendship and trust that Teresa never believed she'd ever have again and she didn't want to ruin it. She knew she was not ready for anything more so she reluctantly she said the words she knew she had to say, "Goodnight Patrick."

"Goodnight Teresa," he replied, his smile as delicious as candy.

She watched as he turned around and walked to his house, feeling a pang of disappointment as he opened the door and went inside.

Later that night Patrick Jane was woken from his sleep by the ringing of his cell phone. He opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep on his couch again. Blinking, he sat up, reached for his phone and looked at the caller ID - it was Teresa. He looked at the clock and saw that it was almost midnight. He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips at the thoughts he knew he shouldn't be having about her. Maybe she needs some late night inspiration from her muse? He thought and then immediately chastised himself. Teresa isn't a fling! He thought as he answered the phone. "Teresa!" he began, unable to keep the joy out of his voice.

"Patrick he's outside!" came her voice from the other end.

Patrick's smile fell upon hearing the panic in her voice. "Who?" he asked, concerned.

"Jack!" she replied.

Just then he heard a male voice shout, "Teresa, open the door! I just want to talk to you!"

Patrick looked out the window and saw a tall male silhouette standing outside her house.

"He called me about an hour ago," Teresa explained, "said he wanted to help me but I told him again that I didn't need his help. He just won't let this go, now he's found out where I live...I'm scared Patrick, it's like he's stalking me!"

"It's okay, stay inside, I'll get rid of him!" he told her then promptly hung up and walked toward his front door.

As he walked outside Patrick could see Teresa peeking out from behind the curtains and as he approached her house he began to get a better look at the man who was now throwing rocks at her bedroom window. Her ex-husband was better looking than he had imagined. He had the face of a movie star; he could have been the male lead in a romance movie but Patrick knew that underneath those good look there was a darkness, a selfishness and it made him sick to think of what he had done to Teresa. Patrick felt his fists clench as he approached him.

"What are you doing!" Patrick demanded and he stormed towards Jack.

"None of your business!" he replied but Patrick continued his approach.

"She doesn't want to see you!" he told him and this caught Jack's attention.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"I'm a friend of Teresa's and if you know what's good for you, you'll walk away right now, leave town and stay out of her life forever!"

Jack looked Patrick up and down and smirked as he replied, "Is that right? And what are you gonna do?" He was about to move toward Teresa's front door when Patrick grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him aside. "I said leave her alone!"

Jack was so busy trying to pull his arm out of Patrick's grasp that he didn't see the fist flying toward his face. The next thing he knew, he was on the lawn with Patrick standing over him, anger written all over his face. He picked himself up and noticed that a few of the neighbors were watching what was going on. Someone threatened to call 911 and Jack knew he had to leave. Just as he had begun to walk away Patrick told him, his voice low and threatening, "If you ever bother her again I swear to God I'll do more than mess up that pretty face of yours!" Without another word, Jack quickly walked towards his car. Patrick watched as he drove off, and then he heard a click of the lock as Teresa opened her front door. He turned around and walked toward her.

"Has he gone?" she asked.

"He's gone." He told her gently as he stood facing her. He noticed the tear tracks on her face and saw that she was trembling.

"So much for burying the past," she said despondently.

"Hey," he began, putting his hands on the tops of her arms, "he's not coming back."

"But what if he does?" she looked up at him, her green eyes filled with melancholy and fear. "Patrick...will you stay with me? I...just don't want to be alone tonight."

He looked at her and felt his heart break, "Okay." He told her and she led him inside.

Patrick walked into the living room, "I'll sleep on the couch," he told her, "don't worry, it's going to be okay."

He heard her begin to walk up the stairs when he noticed that she had suddenly stopped. He turned around to look at her. She had one arm on the bannister and she was looking at him. "Teresa?" he asked but as he walked toward her she began to cry. He ran up to her and took her in his arms, "It's okay, it's okay." He soothed. "Come on, let's get you to bed okay?" he said as helped her up the stairs.

Once they reached her bedroom she climbed into her bed and he pulled the covers over her, only then noticing her choice of nightwear. He smiled a little as he tucked her in, stroking her hair as he whispered, "I'll be right here till you fall asleep, okay?" She nodded and closed her eyes. Patrick sat on the floor next to the bed and rested his head against the side of the mattress. His eyes wandered about the moonlit room and he saw her baseball bat resting again her closet door. He thought back to the first conversation they'd ever had and he realized now why she hated guns so much. He closed his eyes as he listened to the ticking clock on the wall and the sound of her breathing. It wasn't long before her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

Patrick woke up just as the dawn had begun to break, he opened his eyes and looked over at the sleeping form of Teresa Lisbon. He was glad that Jack hadn't come back and she had managed to sleep through the night. Slowly, he stood up, silently walked towards the window and looked outside. The sun was beginning to make its ascent into the sky; its soft illumination a tender kiss good morning to the sleeping residents of Sacramento. Patrick inhaled deeply, feeling his body fill up with life and as he exhaled he smiled as an idea came into his head. He quietly left the house and went back into his own. Quickly, he ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. When he got there he opened up his closet and searched the top shelf until he found what he was looking for. As he stepped back with the item in his hand he looked at it, first with sadness and then with joy.

When Teresa woke up she found that she was alone. Assuming that Patrick had gone to sleep on the couch, she left the bedroom and walked downstairs, however when she got there he was nowhere to be seen. She called his name but got no answer. She decided to go into the kitchen to get herself some coffee but as she walked into the room she saw that there was something on her kitchen counter. She walked toward the counter and was taken back by what she saw. It was a football jersey with a note on top which read: I noticed that you like to sleep in jerseys so I thought you might like this. Patrick J.