He woke up when he heard the door close and the sounds of Lily babbling. She sounded unhappy so he roused himself, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. He forced himself out of bed and lumbered over to his bedroom door. Opening it he almost ran into Teresa, who was standing there holding his little girl.
As soon as Lily saw him she started to cry and put out her arms. "Hey there", he reached out and took her. "What's the matter sweetheart?"
"The daycare workers said she's been a bit upset this afternoon – probably missing you."
He held her closely, loving the feel of the sweet bundle who had come to mean so much to him in a few weeks. "It's okay Lily", he said softly walking with her and gently rocking her.
A short time later her cries stopped and she rested her head on his shoulder, her hands clutching his t-shirt tightly. She appeared calm, but he could still feel her little heart beating quickly. He felt terrible, knowing that she was probably still feeling the loss of her parents, even though she was too young to know or understand what had happened.
"I'm sorry baby", he whispered. "Daddy's here now and you're going to be okay."
He finally took her out to the living room and sat down with her, too weak to continue to stand. He knew his fever had come back slightly and he didn't want to over do it.
"Here", Teresa handed him a bottle. "I'm sure she's hungry."
He looked at her with gratitude and took the bottle. "Come on silly", he said lovingly to the baby. "Here you go."
It took her a minute before she was willing to eat, but eventually she started to suck on it, her hand now holding on to his sleeve.
"She probably missed you these last few days when you were sick", Teresa sat down and watched the two of them, thinking how adorable they looked together.
"I just hope she's not coming down with my flu", he said worriedly. He felt her forehead but she seemed cool. He then bent down and kissed her. "I'm not doing too well in the father department, am I?" he said, some bitterness in his voice.
"Don't be foolish", she told him bluntly. "You're doing a marvelous job. The very fact that she missed you so dreadfully shows how great a dad you are. Every parent gets sick and it's hard, but she was safe and well-cared for – and if she missed you – well you're here with her now and she'll be just fine. Children are remarkably resilient and she knows she's loved. I mean, just look at her!"
He glanced down at the little girl, to see her eyes half closed and sucking gently on the bottle. At this rate she'd soon be sleeping, which wasn't a good thing as it meant she'd probably be up in the middle of the night. She also needed to eat something solid.
He allowed her to finish her bottle but then held her upright and jiggled her a few times to wake her up. She was still a bit cranky, but not as bad as when she'd gotten home.
"I don't want her to fall asleep just yet", he explained. "Otherwise she'll be up in the night."
"Good idea. I can make her up some of her dinner – and I'll put on some soup for you. Just stay here and rest."
"Lisbon, you don't -"
She grinned at him. "I know I don't have to Jane. When are you going to understand that I'm your friend and I want to help out?"
She was almost in the kitchen when he managed to call after her. "Thank you!"
She turned and smiled. "You're welcome. And you're going to owe me big time", she smirked.
He laughed as she disappeared into the kitchen and then resettled Lily on his lap. "Don't you listen to your Auntie Teresa", he told her. "I don't want you getting any ideas."
"I'm already giving her lots of ideas Patrick", Teresa called from the kitchen.
He laughed again, softly.
Lily was willing to go into her highchair for dinner, as long as Jane stayed close by. Teresa fed her, while Jane forced himself to eat some soup and crackers. For dessert he had a couple of Tylenol and a cup of tea.
After dinner he rested on the couch, Teresa beside him holding Lily. They stayed that way, chatting softly, until the little girl started to yawn and her eyes began to droop. Teresa changed her and put her in her tiny pink sleeper and gave her to Jane, who held her until she fell asleep.
"I can put her down", he said when Lisbon offered.
"Okay, but then you need to go to bed. You're looking tired."
"Mmm", he answered noncommittally while he stood and moved with the baby into the spare room where her crib still resided. "There you go", he said softly, laying her down and kissing her on the cheek. "Sleep tight."
He made his way back to the living room, but Lisbon stood in his way, her arms crossed and a fierce scowl on her face. "To bed!"
His eyes narrowed and he glared at her, although there was a twinkle in his eyes. "You're trying to boss me around."
"Of course", she agreed. "It's what I do best."
He sighed. "Yes, it is – and you enjoy it", he muttered as he turned and headed to his bed. He was physically tired, but he really didn't feel like sleeping. Unfortunately, he didn't feel up to reading either and dreaded lying in bed, trying not to think about his life and how screwed up it was.
He sighed and lay down, although a moment later he grabbed the second pillow and propped himself up. "I'm not sleepy", he told the smiling woman in the doorway.
"No?"
"No. Stay and talk to me?"
Her eyebrows lifted, but after a moment she nodded, looking slightly nervous. "I'll grab a chair."
"Just sit on the bed", he frowned. "There's plenty of room."
She somehow knew that this probably wasn't a good idea, not considering how she felt about him. There was the fact that he was sick though, so it wasn't as if she was just hanging out in his bedroom.
"You think too much Lisbon", Jane suddenly informed her. "Relax."
"I am relaxed", she told him, somewhat defensively.
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Tell me about yourself", he said suddenly.
She laughed softly. "Jane, you know just about everything there is to know."
His eyes flew open at that and he looked at her seriously. "No I don't. I know some things about you, but you keep a lot well-hidden."
"And you haven't uncovered those things?" she asked skeptically. "I don't think I believe that."
"No – I haven't", he told her, sounding sincere. "Sure, I can tell a lot about you – not just because I can 'read' you, but because we've worked together for a long time. But you're my friend Teresa, and I didn't think it would be right to try and figure everything out about you. You deserve some privacy."
She stared at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes, of course", he answered, sounding somewhat put out. "I'm not that nosey."
"Yes you are", she told him, but with a smile. "So then, you don't know about me and the great donut caper?"
"The donut caper?" he asked, sounding both amused and intrigued. "No, I don't know about that. Tell me."
So she proceeded to tell him one of the more embarrassing stories of her youth. To this day she had trouble eating donuts when she remembered how much trouble she'd gotten in. And it was all because of a dare – a dare she hadn't been able to refuse.
"Wow", he breathed, looking at her in awe. "And to think that Teresa Lisbon almost got in trouble with the law. You've destroyed all my illusions."
She rolled her eyes. "You don't have any illusions Jane", she told him. "You understand how they work."
"True", he said with a sigh, looking somewhat sad. "So – are you okay?" he asked suddenly.
"Am I okay?" she looked at him confused.
"Well, you just broke up with your boyfriend. I thought maybe you might be a little – upset or something."
"Oh." She swallowed, a sudden weight of guilt descending onto her shoulders. Poor Marcus! She'd been so caught up in Jane that she'd totally put him out of her mind. She knew that when she was alone again, she probably would be sad at the loss of – of what exactly? Of hopes for a future, her heart told her.
"I feel badly", she confessed. "But also kind of relieved, if you want the truth."
He wasn't sure that he did, not completely, although the word 'relieved' made him feel a bit better. "Why relieved – if I can ask?" He suddenly realized that he was being nosey, after just assuring her she deserved her privacy.
"Well, as nice a guy as he was – at least to me", she said with a small smile, "He wanted too much too soon", she told him. "He had the house and picket fence and everything all planned out before I even knew if he was the right one."
He nodded, and before he had a chance to think about it, he spoke again. "And you're sure he wasn't?"
"No – I mean no he wasn't." She shrugged, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "You should be sleeping. You need all the rest you can get to get over this."
"I'm not tired", he told her, although that was immediately shown to be a lie by the huge yawn that followed.
"Come on, lie down. It's time you slept. I'll leave the Tylenol and some water here by your bed. If you need me for anything just call, okay."
"Okay", he nodded, scooching down under the covers. He had to grin when she tucked him in, just as if he were a small boy. He just wished she would reach down and give him a kiss goodnight.
"Thank you", he said softly. He yawned again. "I'm glad you're here."
"So am I", she murmured softly as she turned off the light and pulled the door almost shut. Jane was already asleep.
She laid awake a long time that night, thinking back to everything that had happened in the last few days. She'd ended one relationship and got her friendship back on track with Jane. She still wondered about his comment about showing her he was interested in her. He hadn't said any more about it and it was driving her crazy. She didn't know if she should ask him – she was pretty sure she would die first – or let it go. The other alternative was to show some interest in him and see where it went.
But that could be dangerous, she acknowledged. If he wasn't interested it would just lead to embarrassment for the both of them and had the potential of destroying their friendship. It would also mean she'd lose out on contact with Lily, who was slowly getting to be hugely important to her.
She sighed and turned over in the bed. What the hell should she do.
Jane slept soundly for a few hours, but woke up with a start. He'd been dreaming again – something he hadn't experienced in a while. This time it was about Teresa – Teresa and Pike. He scowled, not wanting to even think about the FBI agent – the handsome, put together, intelligent agent who'd almost taken Teresa away from him.
He sat up in bed and took a long, cool sip of water. Setting it down he allowed himself to think of her and her comments about Pike. He was so grateful that she'd dumped the man. Not only wasn't he worthy of her (was anyone?) but it meant she was once again going to be around for him.
But what if she met someone else, the evil voice in his head asked. Maybe the next time it would be the right guy. Then he'd really lose her.
He didn't want to lose her. In fact, he wanted to be the one. He'd planned to win her over using Lily, but now acknowledged that that wasn't fair, either to Teresa or to Lily. He wanted them to love one another, but not as a means of hooking Lisbon. No – regardless of what happened between Lisbon and him, he wanted his daughter – he stopped breathing for a moment when he said that – he wanted her to have Teresa in her life as a friend and role-model.
So what was he going to do? He could try and win her – he had no idea if he'd be successful – or he could leave things as they were and chance losing her to some other man.
"No way in hell!" he muttered darkly. He was not going through this again.
He turned over and pounded his pillow until he was sure it was just the right fluffiness and then set his head down. Okay – you're a coward Patrick Jane, he acknowledged to himself. But if you don't do something to prove to Teresa that you are the right man for her, then you deserve to lose her.
With that thought he turned over, punched his pillow one more time, and tried to go back to sleep.
"Jane, I'm going to take Lily to daycare and then head back to my house", she told him the next morning. "You seem a lot better and so I think I'd better get back to work. I'll pick her up at the end of the day and bring her over here so you don't have to go out." Before he had a chance to say anything she held up her hand. "No, don't say it. I will pick her up."
In the end he'd nodded and thanked her. He hated the thought that she was going. Having her here had been – scary and wonderful. It had been a long time since he'd lived with anyone, and having a woman and child in the house brought back all sorts of warm memories.
"Thanks Teresa", he said again, a gentle smile on his face. "Say hi to Abbott for me.."
"I will", she smiled in return. "Call me if you need anything – promise?"
"I promise."
"Good. Then you rest today and I'll be by after 5:00 with the baby."
He spent a miserable day – too sick to do anything, but not sick enough to simply sleep. This was the part he hated most about being sick and the reason he was a terrible patient. He hated being bored especially over the last few years. Boredom meant thinking – and thinking meant going places he didn't want to ever return to.
So, in the end he'd watched a couple of movies and dozed off and on. He'd really tried to avoid thinking anything about Lisbon, knowing he should leave that until he was better. Still, it was hard. He wanted her around but at the same time was terrified. He'd had trouble opening his heart to Lily – could he possibly do it with a woman who would expect so much more from him than he thought he could possibly give.
"What should I do Angie?" he finally asked. It wasn't often that he still spoke to his wife, except in moments of extreme anxiety or confusion. He had to laugh at himself, although it wasn't at all funny. Here he was, asking his wife, the woman he'd adored and loved whether or not to tell another woman he loved her. He felt a pang of guilt and sorrow, but then was pretty sure that Angela would swat him on the head and tell him to not be ridiculous. She had always been the steady, practical one. She'd tell him plainly that she was gone and he needed someone else to love.
It was strange really, since they were two very different personalities, but he was positive that Angie and Teresa would have gotten along with one another. They would have had bullying him in common, he snorted.
Although in one other way they were very similar. Angela had been a no-nonsense type, just like Teresa. He was pretty sure that that was the reason he'd latched on so quickly to her and to the CBI. He'd recognized something in Lisbon that struck a cord in him, that made him feel safe. Angela had been the only other person in his life to do so.
He twisted his ring and for once allowed himself to think of Angela and what their life together had been like. He had loved her so much – but he'd been so arrogant, so sure of himself. She'd begged him many times to stop using lies and dishonesty to make a living. To this day he lived with remorse and sorrow that he hadn't listened to her. She had wanted him to be a better man, but he hadn't been able to, not until after her death.
Which was horribly tragic and caused him endless guilt. That it took her death to turn him around was something he would never forgive himself for, although he could almost hear her berating him for even thinking such a thing. "I'm sorry Angie", he whispered.
Angela had been so good – so gentle and kind – why didn't she change him? He would never know, although he did know it was his fault, not hers.
But now there was Teresa and for some reason he felt like Angie was pushing him towards her. The ironic thing was that Teresa did make him a better man. It wasn't just Angela and Charlotte's death that had done it – no, it was Agent Lisbon, Teresa, who often forced him to take a hard look at himself.
He twisted the ring on his finger again and felt a wash of pain and sadness and loss. He missed her so terribly. He felt the tears gather in his eyes – tears he hadn't shed in a long time. "Angie", he whispered, desperate for her presence.
But as he lay there, his eyes closed but wet with tears, the longing began to change. It was almost as if his wife were there, gently comforting him, but also reminding him that there was another presence close by – a presence that he only had to reach out and grasp. "I don't know if I can", he whispered, and whether it was to his wife, or to the universe he didn't know.
He slowly drifted off to sleep, still unsure, but no longer quite so sad. He was sure that Angela was still with him, still loving him, but pushing him to find a new love. Instead of feeling guilty or alone, suddenly he felt as if there was a ray of hope.
He smiled gently, almost asleep. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd tell Teresa how he felt.
"Thanks Angie", he whispered in his last conscious moment. "I love you."
"I love you too Patrick. Be happy my love." The presence slowly dissipated, but the love remained.
