Author's Notes: Thank you yaba!

Thanks to the following for leaving a review: Simonisthecuttestmentalist, shopping-luva91, The Lonely Fox, Hikaru Ceres (I do agree Jane has an eye for detail and apparently the ability to build… not sure about it as far as hammers and nails go, but can do other things. You can find out how he does in the next chapter I believe.), xxxBekaForEvaxxx, mwalter1, martini crazy, SL727, lisbonloafers, Yana (I very much think that Lisbon hates to show embarrassment and such so she's either very shy because she just can't help it, or overcompensates by becoming angry to try to cover up what she's feeling. Thank you for taking your time to do a great job on editing. It's a… difficult chapter… yes, it certainly has been a ride, about a 3 month ride?), Ebony10

Chapter 11

For once Lisbon let Jane drive.

More like he coerced and then hid her keys, not too difficult since she was tired from the six hour drive anyway. Wrapping up what they could at the office they had arrived in their separate cars to her place. They were in need of dinner (of the premade variety), which was not forthcoming in Lisbon's stainless steel refrigerator. Lisbon almost settled for the ice cream left in her freezer.

Jane drove relatively within speed limits, Lisbon being too tired to even remonstrate him more than a handful of times. The grocery store was fairly close in any case and she had survived in longer car rides with him behind the wheel.

They were going to shop for microwavable meals, deli section foods, things that were easy to prepare and would hold them over for the weekend at least. Jane and Lisbon had split up, each carrying a shopping basket to expedite their shopping venture.

Lisbon tried to cover her yawn as she walked down the refrigerated section of the store, picking up some meals she thought Jane might like and the ones that were her standard most weekdays. The lights built into the units holding the food caused a glare that made it look like everything was sparkling. She didn't know that food packages could be so reflective. She looked to the side upon hearing a squeaky wheel, a middle aged man was pushing the cart, child sitting in front of him and a woman, presumably his wife, walking alongside him with a hand resting on the handle.

Perhaps it was because she was tired, but Lisbon had an odd feeling when she saw them. Maybe she has seen them before on a previous shopping trip here?

The CBI agent made her way to the cash registers, waving caught her attention; Jane had been waiting for her. In the row of identical, rectangular beige cash registers, each with a boxy number lamp and short, black conveyer belts, eight of twenty were lit up.

Jane and Lisbon quietly stood in line, two people ahead of them. Jane pulled out his wallet and waved off Lisbon's soft protest, it was only fair he paid once in a while since he did eat from her kitchen most weekends. She gave him a light shove in the shoulder, thanking him. Jane may have given her a quizzical smile had he been someone else, but he knew that was her way of showing affection when she didn't know how else to… and she was very tired.

They made their way back to her home, this time being able to see the place in its entirety, no longer in a rush to shop. Jane saw half of a stale bagel sitting on the counter, some crumbs surrounding it. The hole was staring at him, making him feel a twinge of guilt for having felt furious enough to cause its presence. He noticed how unchanged the living room was from when he had been there last.

"Let's eat, what do you want?" Lisbon asked, looking up at him from the emptied bags, food laid out on the small kitchen counter.

Jane had gotten cooked green beans, mashed potatoes, and rotisserie chicken, still warm from the deli section. The two pulled out plates and quietly ate at the table near the front door, he offered to clean up since she had driven all day.

After eating, she took him up on his offer and went upstairs while he cleared and cleaned the plates. He was putting away the towel dried dishes when she came back. Jane turned to send a smile her way when he noticed she was wearing "The Jersey". It was capitalized in his mind as there was no other jersey as significant to him as that one. His mouth seemed to go dry, if only slightly. It didn't matter to him that she was wearing shorts under them in an attempt at some modesty; he was still getting to see legs that were normally covered, even on the weekends he's stayed over. She looked at him shyly then, self-conscious under his sultry gaze, and looked away towards the television that had yet to be turned on.

Lisbon swallowed then spoke softly, "Your overnight bag is here, so you could go get changed into sleep clothes…"

"True enough," he responded, catching up his bag by the door and making his way to her. He pecked her on the cheek and she looked up at him, "I'll be right back down."

He pulled away and made a sort of jaunty walk up the stairs, if it could be called that. Her eyes followed him up then she turned to find the TV remote and find something to watch.

Jane came padding back down, having removed shoes and socks. He saw that Teresa could barely keep her eyes open as she stared at the TV, leaning back into her couch, legs tucked up under her.

"Maybe you should go to bed," he suggested, slight regret niggling at the back of his mind as he had been looking forward to the weekend routine of watching something together on the couch, just to be by her side in private.

"No, that's okay. Let's watch this a while," she insisted, sitting up, trying to open her eyes a bit more.

He didn't argue, didn't want to, and sat next to her. She then buried herself into his side and he wrapped right arm around her, happy that it was her immediate response. The usual would have been for them to be in the middle of a movie for this to happen, then drifting off to sleep (or pretending to). Her warm weight against his side, her hand resting on his stomach, was one of the best feelings. She was close enough for him to smell her, warmth and woman emanating from her. She yawned against him.

Jane pulled her closer, kissing her on the crown of her head and pulled back, looking down at her, "You don't need to stay up with me. Go to bed, we'll see each other in the morning."

She looked up at him then, her face slightly flushed, which could be a result of her drowsy state, "I want to be with you."

Would it be okay for him to think she was like a cuddly kitten? A very fluffy, sleepy kitten. No, scratch that, a very lethargic, sexy woman.

"Don't worry, I'll still be here," he said, smiling down at her, touched by her sentiment and wondering why he was trying to dissuade her.

"The couch isn't really comfortable… you could-" she stopped, looking away from him, embarrassed as she realized how it sounded. She really was sweet when she was tired. The alternative was a snappish, grouchy Lisbon, which he was more than acquainted with. Perhaps the shift in their relationship this week had finally allowed this more vulnerable side of her to surface for him.

He was done trying to reject any of her offers; he wasn't in love with her couch after all.

"You know what Teresa?" he asked, getting her to look up at him, green on green, he found the somewhat blotchy flush in her cheeks very becoming, "I'd love to share a bed with you. No taking it back now, because this couch has been on a campaign against my back since the beginning. I just hope your bed is more forgiving."

His words caused her to have that look of disbelief then crooked smile, "This couch is just fine. It's because you're an old man."

"I resent that!" he declared, then attempted to point at her with his left hand, causing him to grimace for a moment, "and I resent you," he added to his broken hand, giving it a frown.

They turned out the lights and made their way upstairs, Teresa's heart starting to pound in her chest after coming back down from their momentary levity. He was right behind her, following her to the bedroom. She paused to open the door, feeling him press against her back, his arm came around her and he kissed her neck. She almost shivered, her heart hammering against her ribs now, breath catching in her throat.

"Sorry," he whispered into her ear, warm arm falling away, "I just wanted to do that."

"That's okay," she replied evenly. This was almost as awkward as she imagined it would be for teens. Okay, maybe "awkward" wasn't the right word, but it was something. Exciting.

Teresa got into her unmade queen sized bed from the left side so Patrick took the right. He let out a sigh as his head made contact with a pillow and not the hard armrest of Lisbon's college dorm reject couch. The sheets were cool to the touch and they straightened the blankets over them. He then thought about how strewn they had been and winced again at the reminder of their fight. He was glad that was over with, in fact, they made a lot of progress. He didn't imagine himself being in the same bed with her a week after that.

Teresa was so still he wondered if she had fallen asleep already. Though, her breathing pattern didn't indicate sleep at all. She was rather lying stiffly next to him. Patrick frowned. That would do no good. He realized that she was too afraid to make any movement herself and was perhaps waiting in baited breath for him. He turned his head from staring at the dark ceiling towards her, finding her silhouette against the dim glow that came around the edges of her bedroom curtains.

He was quite aware of her next to him, though they were not touching. He knew she was hyperaware of him as well. He slowly reached a hand out, but before making contact he spoke quietly, "Might you be more comfortable over here?"

Teresa realized Patrick sounded like he was speaking to a frightened child especially as she felt his fingertips graze her arm. She was thankful he wasn't making fun of her. He rarely showed such tenderness. She was rather getting annoyed at herself acting like a naïve little girl, so much so that she caused him to treat her as such. She slept on top of this man, on a couch for crying out loud! Who did that then became shy in a large bed? But… she hadn't had a man in her bed in years, opening the door to him also opened the door to so many other possibilities…

Teresa rolled over into Patrick, her hips against his side, his arm under her. She cautiously threw a leg over his then relaxed, nose pressed into his chest as they held each other. She took a deep breath and seemed to just melt into him. Patrick would be lying if he said he wasn't aroused by all this, but knew this was only to sleep and she was tired. He would savor every moment of having her just there next to him, wrapped around him was actually more correct to say.

She was soon asleep and he was happy to let her, just marveling at how comfortable she was with this now. He was so deliriously happy to be in bed with her in his arms, that as corny or mushy as it could sound, he almost wanted to cry. Not that he would, it was just the feeling. He could, however, think of other things that would cause him even more happiness, but it was too early for that. They had finally just gotten to the point where they could innocently sleep in bed with each other. He suspected that her previous relationship had not ended up in bed so innocently though. He tossed the thought away. That didn't matter, she was with him now, and just wanted to sleep, just sleep, with him.

Patrick rarely slept in a bed these days, mostly when they had an out of town assignment. Also, the last time he slept with someone in the same bed as him had been more than six years ago, with his wife. He began stroking Teresa's hair gently with his left hand, soothing himself as he tucked her hair behind her ear and continued the action, enjoying the texture of her strands and the side of her neck he came into contact every few strokes. He breathed her in. There was more meaning for her to invite him into her bedroom to just sleep than for anything else, for her to fall asleep against him almost immediately.

Patrick realized that it might be good to call Michael and let him know things were great. Unless Teresa wanted him to sweat it out. Whatever, he'll let her handle that.

He luxuriated in the feeling of being in a proper bed, though he had been in a bed every night all this week, but this was different. He got to (attempt) to sleep tonight with the memory of Teresa very shyly telling him she loved him, with her wrapped around him. If only he could sleep now. Patrick was getting hot with her pressed against him and covers over them, so he flipped the covers off of his left side. He didn't realize that she was such a cuddler. He couldn't help but compare her with his wife, not in who was better, but the differences. His wife had been affectionate, but in bed they lay side by side, usually not curled into each other, she complained it got too hot, which was fine since he found it got too hot as well and was content just having her next to him.

He looked forward to learning more about Teresa though. Jane grinned to himself, based on her slightly untidy housekeeping… he still maintained his opinion about messy women. If she knew what he was thinking about she would likely turn red ('How far down her body would she blush?') and possibly kick him out of bed if her mortification was at the right level…

He really needed to fall asleep.

Knowing what he does about hypnosis one would think he would be able to try and meditate, relaxing himself enough to fall asleep. He's tried before in the previous few years without much success, not wanting to fall asleep in most cases because of what awaited him when his eyes closed. He was, however, more at peace now than ever. He closed his eyes, briefly tensing his body then finger by finger, limb by limb, relaxed each and every muscle one at a time, he focused on his breathing, the steady in and out of air through his nose and mouth, down his throat, into his lungs, clearing his head.

Patrick's eyes opened and he let out a huge sigh, he tiredly looked over at Teresa's bedside alarm clock. Maybe half an hour passed since he tried falling asleep. He turned his face to the ceiling again and his head sank back into his pillow. He slowly let out another breath and started tapping his fingertips on top of the mattress, then stopped after receiving a protesting twinge from his hand. Sleepless nights were a bad habit he had to break.

"Can't sleep?"

He was startled by Teresa's drowsy voice and craned his neck down to see her face.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked, he started rubbing her side with his right hand, arm still wrapped around from underneath her.

"It's okay," she said softly, "something on your mind?"

"Nothing in particular," Patrick murmured. He had stopped rubbing her side, but felt her hand slide up and down his clothed stomach. It amused him and reminded him of how he had tried to get his daughter to fall asleep in her crib as a baby.

"My daughter's name was Sophie," he said.

Teresa quietly listened, continuing to slowly stroke his stomach, now in a more circular fashion. Just when she was about to nod off after a long silence he spoke again, "She was a fussy baby, we wondered if we'd ever get any sleep. I think it took four months for her to finally have a proper sleeping pattern. Diane was ready to tear my hair out," he didn't chuckle, but sounded like he would have, "she made sure I had my share of late nights with our daughter, I used to be a sound sleeper before the baby."

He had stopped talking and Lisbon lay quietly, resting her hand, only grazing her fingers in little circles and random designs.

"I think I've had each of my brothers crawl into bed with me at least once when we were kids, but mostly Kev. After Mom died he'd have dreams that she was still alive, then when he woke up he'd sneak to Dad's room, but not even Dad was there half the time, so he'd freak out and come to the room that I shared with Mikey," Teresa explained, sliding her arm over his torso to hold him.

Teresa was again wandering the edge between sleep and wakefulness when she heard the rumble in Patrick's chest as he whispered again after a long pause, "Teresa?"

"Hm?" she mumbled, ready to slip into unconsciousness at any moment, eyes closed.

"Do you want to have kids?" came the quiet question. There was another stretch of silence that he thought she fell asleep again.

"Patrick?"

"Yes?"

"Go to sleep."

Patrick did chuckle this time in his chest, disturbing Teresa's resting head. She rolled off of him and he worried that she would go to her side of the bed. Instead she pulled herself up so her head was up on the pillow and brought her gentle hands to the sides of his face. He was curious as to what she was doing and allowed her to guide his head. Teresa pulled on Patrick's left shoulder, having him roll onto his side, their positions almost reversed from moments ago. She pulled him over, his head now resting on her soft chest and he wondered at her unthinking daring to do so.

"Teresa?"

"Shhh."

Then he heard her steady heartbeat, his ear directly on top of her sternum. This is what she must be looking for when she slept on top of him on the couch, when she curled into him earlier that night. She ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, and didn't seem to mind the weight of him against her despite the significant difference in mass.

With the combination of the steady beating of her heart, breathing, gentle caresses, and warmth Patrick fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.