Disclaimer – As cool as it would be to be a member of Team Heller, it's evident I'm not. Therefore I don't own any part of the Mentalist TV series and am not making any money off these stories.

In case anyone is confused, I had to change "Corporal Wilson" into "Sergeant Wilson" because Chicago PD doesn't have a rank of Corporal. My bad. So sorry. Look at it this way; he got a promotion!

Thanks to Cumberland River Relic from whom I blatantly stole the descriptor "Jane-being-Jane" one of his favorite notes about any number of Jane-ism I've included in scenes CRR has beta'd.

Chapter 36

After the ID checks came back clean, Chicago's Finest asked them to leave the area. Patrick was about to argue, but Teresa took his wrist with her tightest grip. He winced a little but shut his mouth and started the car.

"Thank you, Sergeant Wilson," she said. "Sorry to put you through all this trouble for nothing."

"Not a problem, ma'am. Drive safely. And we're sorry for your loss"

A lump formed in her throat and she nodded curtly. When she glanced up at Patrick, his look of guilt and contrition made her eyes water again.

"Have a good night," Patrick said before putting the car in gear.

Traveling along Lake Shore Drive, Teresa gave him a light smack on the arm.

"Negotiating a price?" she demanded.

"Sorry. It seemed funny at the time."

"Humph."

Actually it was amusing when she stood back from the situation. But dammit, CBI always had authority issues with local cops and her spine had automatically stiffened with seeing the Uniforms standing there. She'd felt both conciliatory while elite at the same time and she resented how he threw the balance off with his naughty schoolboy antics. Her reaction was knee-jerk.

Sorta like his, I suppose. Nothing rubbed Patrick the wrong way as quickly as authority figures.

"For such an intelligent man, you sure are dumb some times."

"And for such an intelligent woman, you don't question authority enough."

"I question authority," she protested. "I just use common sense when I do so."

The 'humph' noise he issued sounded identical to hers.

"It's true," she said. "First, you have to be sure that they don't have the right to be in authority before you open your mouth."

"Meh."

Meh. She hadn't heard that in such a long time. It seemed like forever in time and a completely different universe ago, when in fact it was probably during their last case less than a week ago. Funny how it represented 'Jane-being-Jane' as he waited for his little plan – whatever it happened to be – to come to fruition. A single syllable. A non-word which filled a dictionary with its varied meanings. She had them all memorized.

Meh. 'Who needs evidence when I have a hunch?' Meh. 'They'll drop that lawsuit when they realize it will cost more than they'll win.' Meh. 'At least I took the firing pin out before he tried to fire the gun at me.' Meh. 'I'll make sure they come to their just desserts in the end.'

The situation seemed so casual! She was driving through Chicago with her best friend who was no longer her best friend, but instead was now her lover. They were on their way to her dead brother's apartment to have sex again in her dead niece's bed while the fate of her great-nephew rested in the hands of a judge who might be suffering from a bad Monday morning.

Meh.

His hand slid across the center console to her elbow and down her arm where he wrapped his fingers around hers.

"I love you, my dearest. I'm sorry I upset you. Again."

The world came into focus again: the dirty yellow tint of the mercury vapor street lights, the few cars around them, the lake splashing against the sea wall, McCormick Place ahead…

"Wait, where are we going?" she asked.

He jerked his hand away, gripping the steering wheel in a slight panic.

"Dammit. I missed our turn onto Congress Parkway. I was so absorbed in…"

Patrick Jane made a mindless mistake? What the hell?

With an exasperated sigh, he pulled into the right lane and slowed down, heading for the next exit.

"Sorry, Teresa. I got so absorbed with how to make it up to you, I wasn't paying attention."

"No, no, we're okay. Exit onto the Stevenson. We'll catch the Dan Ryan that way instead."

He followed her directions without question which was another surprise. How often has she battled with his analytical mind about the best way to do something, especially regarding driving? Examining him for signs of conscious restraint revealed nothing beyond concentration on the road.

"Make what up to me?" she asked as they exited onto 35th Avenue. They were blocks from the apartment.

"You know. Almost having us dragged to the police station? For delaying getting us home?" He paused and added softly, "For failing to keep you out of the blues for just a little while longer."

"What?" She looked around and pointed to the parking lot of a drug store. "Pull in."

Once stopped, Patrick placed his hands in his lap and lowered his face. She almost felt sorry for him but she was too vexed and confused for pity.

"Okay, what did that mean? I understood about being a smartass to the Uniforms; that was just wrong but you have a serious problem with that so I'm not surprised. But how are you responsible for how I feel? And why can't I feel sad? I just lost my family. My whole family, including my two living brothers who made it clear that they don't give a damn about me."

He nodded slightly but didn't look up.

"And why shouldn't I be allowed to feel guilty? I'm happy when I should still be devastated!"

"Forgive me, Teresa…but we're battling the same army here. I'm happy too, and keep fighting the guilt for being so."

When his gaze rose to look at her, the intensity caught her breath.

"Teresa, I could quote Shakespeare and compare you to a summer's day. And I could make grand statements about the beauty of thine eyes that warms me like the dawn's first glow…but why? Rather than play another game, I want to be straight with you. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, a life I never thought I'd be allowed because I was determined t-t-to…"

He swallowed hard and looked down again.

Kill Red John, she finished for him.

"Anyway…control over this situation has galloped well out of hand, which is another reason I don't want to make a drama of all this. I'm sorry that it came out when you already have so much to deal with. Who knows? Maybe I'm unconsciously taking advantage of your vulnerability t-t-to make certain you don't think too hard about why I'm unsuitable as more than just your friend."

Only once had he ever seemed vulnerable and unsure. Even then, he kept his edge of defiance, daring her to make something of the fact he'd spent time in a mental hospital. This was a depth of Patrick Jane she had never seen before.

"Patrick, you're right that this is beyond our control. I don't know when I last felt so carried away by events. I'm not sure I like it." Heaving a deep breath took a lot of tension from her chest as she stared at him. After a glance at her from the corner of his eye, he turned his face away. "But I do like that our relationship has changed. I'm glad I finally understand how I feel about you and how you feel about me. In the middle of everything that has happened, at least that's something clear and definite in my life.

"But I've lost my brother and my niece. I'm going to feel sad. I have to, despite how wonderful your love for me is."

"I tried not to tell you," he said, whipping his face around. "I tried to hold it in and simply just keep being your best friend, but…" His gaze darted around her face as his tense expression softened into a look of love that she'd never seen on him before. Then it vanished and he looked away again. "We can't unsay things, Teresa, but like you requested, we can go slow."

She looked away also, staring at a customer leaving the drug store.

"I'm going to pick something up," she said, releasing her seatbelt and gesturing toward the entrance. Cold air flooded the SUV as she opened the door. "I'll be right back."