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.

Thanks so much, Cumberland River Relic, for beta-ing this chapter and asking the right questions.

Chapter 37

Patrick watched her enter the store, her stride displaying her usual confidence and self-assurance, despite her words about her state of mind.

God, he loved her. But when he most wanted to be there for her, he was her biggest source of hardship and discord. Had it been that much different with Angela? Was he ever a good partner to her? His love for her had been as real as it was for Teresa, but Angela had to deal with an ego four times as strong and twice as unrepentant.

They were different women. Angela's strengths were similar but never had she told him to go to hell, never demanded he stop patronizing her. Angela kept him in line with soft words and significant looks, and she kept him going with sincere praise when she saw his bluster for the insecurity that it was. Strangely enough, her influence over him was a passive sort of confidence, a surety that he would never go too far.

Teresa made certain he never went too far, anticipating his next move with cleverness and even a little wicked anticipation. That was part of her attraction. Even now, as she was trapped in this interaction of keeping an eye on him in the midst of her personal tragedy, she managed not getting swamped by them. She took care of others using the strength that kept her stable through all manner of stormy seas.

And she put him in his place, just as effectively as Angela ever did.

Closing his eyes carried him back to that afternoon: her warmth in his arms, her passionate moans mixed with his as she culminated. Her emotion was so powerful, permeating even his self-absorbed state that orgasm brings, infusing his core with her love.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Shakespeare must have written that knowing a woman like Lisbon would someday exist. Surely no one as special as Teresa had been on the planet before.

Only in his head could he smell her sweet scent. Even using Annie's shampoo and soaps, it still meant Teresa Lisbon to him, the source of love and everything else that was good in his life. She was the only woman besides Angela he'd ever made love to and meant it with all his heart.

He couldn't blow his relationship with her. Apart from what it meant to him, he loved her too much to put her through a disappointing romance. From then on, he would only be his best for her.

The car door opened and a plastic bag rattled in the wind. She set the bag down alongside the transmission tunnel and climbed in, closing the door against the cold.

"I have something to make you feel better, something to make me feel better, and something to make us feel better. First…" She reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate bar, handing it to him.

"Ooo, dark chocolate and coconut," he said, flashing her a grateful smile.

"And Oreos for me, since you ate the last one," she said.

"Oh, and of course the last one has the most flavor."

"Absolutely."

He gave her a huge grin and tried to look into the bag when he placed the chocolate back in for consumption later. "So what did you get to make us feel better?"

Lightly she bit her lower lip as she reached in again. Out came a small box marked Magnum extra-strength condoms. Then she brought out a box of contraceptive sponges.

"Ah! Yes, that condom we found in the nightstand drawer was…"

"Scary cheap and old," she finished for him.

But we used it anyway. Sometimes passion dictates iffy choices.

"Yes," he agreed. "Thank you for buying brand-name ones. I do feel better. Condoms are not something you want to cheap out on. It will cost you more in the end."

She returned both items into the bag and moved it to the back seat before fastening her seatbelt. As she let out a small sigh, he took her hand.

"Teresa, regarding our relationship…I don't know what the future holds, but whatever it is, I want us to face it together. I'll do my best for you."

Her lovely eyes opened wider and she stared at him a moment before nodding.

'I know you will, Patrick. You'll forget yourself sometimes but you'll still mean it when you say you love me. I love you too."

The moment she moved toward him, he leaned forward to meet her. It was a wonderful kiss, warm and heart-felt. When she pulled back, she glowed with happiness.

"Let's go home," she said.

It was a magical night full of passion and tenderness, but the moment that Patrick would remember forever was at the end when they settled in to sleep. Teresa pulled the comforter up over their sated bodies and she snuggled to his chest, rubbing her cheek against his right pectoral. As he caressed her forearm that lay across his stomach, she hummed lightly once and snuggled closer.

"You make me feel so safe," she said sleepily. "Could you hold me, sweetie?"

He hadn't realized what he needed until she said it, but her faith in him swelled his heart.

"Thank you, my dearest," he said, bringing her closer, pulling her arm fully over his chest. "I am delighted to hold you close to me."

"Good," she said, her voice low and drowsy. "'Cause it's where I want to be."

With her warm body pressed to him and her steady breathing the only sound in the dark room, he quickly fell asleep, contented to know that life was more perfect than it had ever been in his entire life.

He woke several times during the night, marveling at the comfort from the feel of her in his arms. It was incredible and – if he was brutally honest with himself – a little more blissful than when Angela would snuggle to him. But he had taken Angela's presence for granted, and as he tightened his hold around Teresa, he vowed never to do that again. Yes, Red John was dead and his new love wasn't in danger from him, but she was a cop and Patrick could lose her to any number of violent offenders.

Glancing at the digital alarm clock on the dresser, he sighed and ran his hand down her bare back. Just after six. Court was at eight-thirty. They'd done nothing to prepare baby stuff in case they got immediate custody of Daniel: car seat, diaper bag, blankets against the cold, warm clean clothes. For all his assurances to Teresa that they would, he was actually certain that protective services hadn't done a good job tending the boy.

He didn't want to get out of bed. Being with her was glorious!

Teresa shifted a little, her hand moving to his chest where her fingertip caressed his sparse chest hair. He'd been certain she'd be disappointed with his lack of hairiness. She was attracted to somewhat hirsute men, and other than his reddish-blond five o'clock shadow that annoyingly showed up right after lunch, his fine light hair was scarce and hard to see.

Stop it, Jane. She loves you. Don't question your good fortune!

He drew a deep breath at the self-admonishment. Yes, she did love him, who knew why.

It was easy to say why he loved her. She was perfect. Not too soft, not too hard. Intelligent, funny, compassionate…and his best friend.

Moving carefully, he tried to move out from under her. Instead her arm moved over him holding him close.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

He chuckled and relaxed his body back into her embrace.

"I was thinking I'd get your coffee started for you, my little caffeine addict."

"Oooo, you tempt me to let you go, but I'm also addicted to your kiss." She gave a sexy purr and held him tighter. "Sex or coffee, sex or coffee…"

"Coffee and then sex in the shower," he suggested. "That way you'll be awake."

"Sex now would wake me up really well, Patrick." She lifted her face towards his, a knowing smile on her lips. He reached forward to kiss her and she met him. They kissed tenderly and then passionately, but when she slid her hand down his side, to his hip and then over to his growing erection, he grabbed her wrist.

"It's court day," he whispered after breaking off the kiss. "Seriously, my dearest, we have to get moving."

She gave a slightly wicked laugh. "I can't believe you're being the responsible one and I'm being the scamp."

He released her wrist, laughing as he climbed out from under the comforter.

"Believe me, I wish we were both being scamps," he said. Especially since having the infant in the house from then on was going to put a damper on opportunities to be so. He turned back to her, staring at her lovely face framed with a cloud of disheveled brunette hair. "You are wonderful."

"And so are you," she said, her grin widening. "That's why I'm addicted to you."

"Stockholm Syndrome?"

She laughed and threw off the comforter.

"I succumbed to that years ago, my mentalist. Now I just happen to love you."

Then she rose from the bed and scooted past him. "First bathroom!" she called as she exited the room. In a second he heard the bathroom door close. He laughed and went to Tommy's room to retrieve his pajama bottoms which he then put on.

"Cheater," he called as he went past the bathroom on his way to the kitchen.

"Make coffee," she called back.

To be continued...