A/n I don't want to praise myself, but I love this chapter! It was so fun to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all the lovely comments so far. They mean a lot x

/

5.

Teresa did what she said she would and took a day for herself. The hotel she is staying in doesn't have spa facilities, but they recommended one two streets over and she booked herself in. In the morning she went swimming, finding that doing the breaststroke put hardly any strain on her bad leg and before lunch, she took a moment for herself in the empty sauna. Lunch consisted of a lovely sandwich accompanied by a cup of tea, she smiled to herself whilst drinking it, staggered that in less than a week a stranger who has become her friend has transformed her into a tea-drinker. She didn't see him yesterday and that was probably a good plan. She has started to feel herself get too close, so she decided to focus on her afternoon of pampering instead… this was the idea anyway. During her back, neck, and shoulder massage she thought of him. During her facial, her mind drifted to his own handsome face. During her manicure she wondered if he would notice her fresh layer of emerald green varnish and spot that it matches the shades in the outfit she picked for her, their, trip to the carnival.

That day has now come. "It is just an evening out with three friends." She tells her reflection in the mirror, admiring how perfectly she has managed to get her makeup. She hasn't really bothered so much with it since her accident but that is because she hasn't had the opportunity. Other than a thin coating of mascara and sometimes something on her lips, she doesn't tend to go to the effort. Today she is wearing foundation, a faint line of blush, eye make-up and a bolder attempt at bulking her lashes with her favourite lipstick decorating her mouth. One thing she never let go was the straightening of her hair which can go quite frizzy after being washed. For this evening though she has used her straightening iron to add a slight curl around her face, framing it and her makeup beautifully. Her appearance has given her an air of confidence and it has been a distraction, the process of getting to this point has taken her a couple of hours but now she has finished the nerves are beginning to set in once more.

She leaves the devastation of makeup around the bathroom sink, choosing to tidy up later as time has seemed to have gotten away with her, and she returns to her bedroom where she has hung her chosen outfit on the handle to the wardrobe. It is a dress. One that she only brought with her after a lot of persuasion from Marcus who voiced that perhaps she may want something like this for a night out with Grace. He said that she looks good in it, and she supposes he is right but displaying the scarring to her leg doesn't seem appealing. It is also definitely too warm for tights, and she would probably receive some odd looks if she decided to don them.

It is a deep green number which compliments her eyes brilliantly. She bought it for their trip to Morocco and even though its colour is dark, because the material is light, she didn't overheat in it. It's an A-line number with a V-neck and short, rolled up sleeves. There is a slit that travels to her mid-thigh because it is a wraparound dress, and the belt at the waist creates a flattering fit. There is a marginal difference in length between the front and the back, with the back flowing down to around the middle of her calf and the front to just below her knee. It might be one of her favourite dresses that she has ever owned, and it makes her feel pretty, but holding the hanger in her hand now and staring down at the item of clothing she is unsure that she could pull it off anymore. Teresa sighs.

For almost a minute she just stands motionless in only her underwear, considering her options. She knows that this is the perfect opportunity to get back out there and enjoy life – they are going to a carnival after all – but she has been stuck in her shell for so long that she has forgotten what that feels like. This realisation is very sobering, and it sort of bursts the bubble of joy that she has been floating in for the past twenty-four hours. It isn't fair, she doesn't deserve this self-doubt… and this thought makes her want to be stronger. So she puts on the dress and doesn't cower when she spies the marks to her leg in the floor length mirror in the bedroom. This evening she is going to feel attractive even though she has been dealt cards which suggest otherwise. She thinks her mother would be proud.

With a smile to her reflection, she turns to the bed to find her phone thrown on the covers and when she picks it up, she sees that she has three messages from separate people, all of which elicit different reactions.

Patrick Jane: Franklin is going to close up so I will definitely be at the carnival for six o'clock. See you there! :)

Teresa Lisbon: That's great! See you in a bit.

The colon and closed bracket don't really do his genuine smile justice, but it still brings one to her own face. She wants to hate the happiness that floods her form when she thinks of him, but she can't, it is like she is physically unable to.

Grace Van Pelt: Hey, so bad news. We are unable to come tonight now because poor Maddy has an ear infection, and we don't think it would be fair to leave her with a sitter when she keeps screaming the place down. I hope you still go to the carnival with Patrick and have a fun time! You deserve it xx

Teresa Lisbon: Hey Grace, I am so sorry to hear this. I hope little Maddy feels better soon x

Her response may be kind, polite, but inside Teresa is screaming. How is she meant to spend the evening with Patrick Jane alone? It sounds silly when she has been in his tea shop with him for four out of the six days, she has been in Sacramento so far, but that was different. There was plenty of other people around and usually Franklin. She barely knows this man and now they're going to a carnival together? It seems very date-like to her and not just because Grace said it to tease her when they arranged it.

Marcus Pike: Have fun with Grace and Rigsby tonight. I am very jealous that I can't be there with you, but we should definitely go to a carnival together some point in our future x

Teresa Lisbon: Thank you. I hope the case isn't too gruelling x

She can't tell him that she is going to the carnival with another man without Grace or Wayne present. She can't. It could cause a rift, it could hurt him, it could create an issue which isn't there.

This isn't a problem. They are just going as friends and barely that. So after patting down her dress one last time and slipping on a pair of black flats, she heads downstairs to catch a cab to the carnival site.

It is already pretty busy, but she suspects from the families with small children heading the opposite way that it is a bit of a changeover time when it comes to the punters. It won't be long until youths take over but as soon as she finds Patrick amongst the sea of people in his usual suit and vest but this time with a jacket, she grasps that she doesn't mind the bustle. It isn't so bad; it simply adds to the atmosphere.

When his eyes find her, his jaw seems to drop and his reaction to her appearance brings a pinkish blush to her cheeks which actually compliments the green of her dress and nails. It is still very embarrassing though, yet still she pushes past a woman with a stroller and a couple of lads in their twenties with ease. "Wow." Is all Patrick initially says, not even trying to hide his glance from the top of her head down to her shoes and back up again. She does perceive the smallest of hesitations when he notices the scarring to her leg, but still he looks back up and straight into her eyes whilst honestly uttering, "You look great, really beautiful."

Teresa cannot remember the last time Marcus called her beautiful. It isn't that she believes that he thinks that she isn't beautiful, and maybe her annoyance at his pandering after her surgeries put him off complimenting her, it is just wonderful to hear the word come from a man's lips. Especially one as attractive as Patrick Jane. "T-thank you." She manages to reply, the hand that was resting on her handbag which thin strap is slung over her shoulder is now gripping the faux leather quite hard. "Grace and her husband aren't coming. Their daughter isn't well."

He immediately frowns at this and fleetingly she is concerned that he doesn't think the two of them being alone together is okay, but he is quick to quash her doubts. "Is she okay?" He is worried about Maddy, how sweet… but she understands why. It is probably Charlotte in his mind.

"An ear infection, she will be okay." She reassures and finds herself reaching forward with her free hand before supportively touching his arm with it delicately in a comforting manner. It shows him that she has managed to work him out, one of the only people who has managed it throughout his life. "What shall we do first?" She asks after pulling away, her attention flickering around their surroundings, taking in the countless stalls and an area of rides.

"Have you eaten?"

"No I haven't."

"They do the best pizza pretzels here." He announces as he starts to walk in the direction of some of stalls, seemingly knowing exactly where to go. The format of the carnival hasn't really changed much since he was a young child. "I know you probably prefer Chicago deep-dish pizza but let me blow your mind."

"I trust you to do that." He raises his eyebrow at this, turning his face towards her as they walk and she forces herself to look away, instead deciding to talk about her day before. "Yesterday, I went to this spa and with my lunch I ordered a cup of tea."

"I have converted you." He states with a gasp, grinning from ear to ear, something she catches when she peers back.

The pizza pretzels are actually delicious, combining two of her favourite things and they feast on them as they wander around the fair. There is not a single person who appears miserable around them, there is genuine delight in the air which is something that Teresa shares. "So, come on then." She states after chucking her dirty napkin in the trash. "What's the story with you and this place?" She thinks she knows the answer, it is sort of obvious by how familiar he is with it and with the man that came into the tea shop a couple of days ago. This is clearly a life he stems from, but she wants to hear the story from his own mouth.

"I was born into the carny life." Is his simple reply as they walk, very leisurely, in between the many stalls and people.

"What did you do here?" She asks, giving him her full attention but she senses that this is a topic area that he doesn't want to be so open about. This surprises her because he invited her here, so he can't have hated it too much.

"I was The Boy Wonder." Patrick dryly laughs along with his answer. "You know the whole psychic thing…"

"Oh, yes of course." She remembers their previous conversation about how he used to make a living and suddenly it is obvious. "Did you not enjoy the carny life?"

"It wasn't for me… my wife and I left as soon as we could."

"Your wife was carny too?"

"She was…" He takes a deep breath that kind of releases as a shudder, making a frown ghost her lips. "Her grandparents were carny royalty. They ran big metal like ghost trains and what not… she didn't want to be a part of it. Me neither. We didn't quite fit in because we weren't completely with the show which is a place you don't want to be." He shakes his head at nothing in particular. "Anyway… it is Pete and his wife Sam who run the ghost train and that now."

His desire to change the subject does not go unnoticed but she lets him, grasping that still after all this time he finds discussing matters involving his wife very difficult. "How about we go and say hi to them?" She suggests and he agrees with a nod and a smile.

The area of the carnival with all the rides is much noisier than the rest of it. There is the sound of squealing kids as they thrown around on a rollercoaster, clunking metal and whirring of machinery. Flashing lights are littering their vision and currently she can't think of a better way to spend her Friday night. The ghost train is decorated with spooky artworks such as zombies, poltergeists, and a grim reaper and there is a decent queue, including a few children who appear nervous about what they are about to experience. "Pete!" Patrick shouts through the people to the man at the front of the queue who is in the process of helping a couple into one of the cars.

"Patrick!" He replies whilst lowering a metal bar, securing the customers in place. "Who is your friend?"

"This is Teresa." He introduces her and Pete waves a hello. "Where's Sam?"

"She's gone to get some more change. We are cleaning up tonight." He grins, clearly very pleased at the notion. "You two should get on. Free of charge."

When Patrick looks towards her, he has this excitement in his eyes that is almost childlike, but she doesn't share his enthusiasm. At around six or seven years old, her father took her and her brother Tommy onto a ghost train and she has been terrified of them ever since, but she is too ashamed of this to voice her concern. However Mr Fake Psychic spots it a mile off. "Come on agent Lisbon!" He exclaims, using her title in attempt to coax her. It works of course.

So skipping the queue and ignoring the annoyed expressions on others' faces, they are directed into an empty car, Patrick being sure to help Teresa in, aware that she may struggle with her bad leg although he is worrying about nothing. Very quickly they are sitting with the metal bar in place and Pete is indicating to a younger colleague that they are ready to go. When the attraction jerks into action, she does release the smallest of shrieks and she just about hears a chuckle from the man beside her.

It is largely fine. Teresa Lisbon was a part of law enforcement for over two decades, she has witnessed a lot of real-life horrors that should easily eclipse the experience of going on a ghost train. However, she does edge closer and closer towards Patrick throughout the course until she is properly nestled into his side. He doesn't falter in putting a comforting arm around her shoulder, pulling her even closer. By the ride's conclusion they are practically embracing but what shocks Teresa is how she is not thrown by the whole thing whereas he is surprised about how natural it feels. "See, that wasn't so bad." He murmurs near her ear as Pete releases the safety bar by flicking the switch on its side. The older man then holds out his hand for her to take so that he can assist her off the attraction, but there is a definite smirk on his face. His friend's and this woman's closeness did not go unseen.

They leave Pete and Sam, who they say hello to on passing, to the rest of their night. They really are quite busy, and the last thing Patrick wants is to reduce their business by hogging the ride. He also doesn't think Teresa would like to go around again which is disappointing to him. He liked their intimacy. "What's your favourite carny game?" He questions whilst gently leading her away from the rides and back towards the stalls by pressing his hand softly into the small of her back. It doesn't even register with her that this is what he is doing.

She ponders for a few seconds, trying to remember a time when she actually played them, but her childhood wasn't easy and basically stopped when she was just twelve years old. Though a memory does begin to surface. "When I was a teenager, I very rarely got the chance to do stuff like this." She starts by saying and straightaway she senses all his concentration is pinpointed on her, to the point that he almost walks into a bystander but manages to avoid them at the last possible moment. "I had to look after my younger brothers and we didn't really have any spare money to throw away, but when I started working as a fifteen-year-old, I used my tips to take them to the fair. I won my youngest brother, Jimmy, a stuffed teddy bear on the beanbag toss."

On occasion she has wondered whether her brother still has the teddy. He probably doesn't, it won't mean as much to him as it does to her, but she does recall the nights that he would cuddle it in bed. "Beanbag toss it is." Jane decides, his blue eyes now searching for the desired stall and all Lisbon can do is smile that this man appears to care so much.

He does find it. A stall with enough spots for five people to take part in the fairground game at once. She immediately spots the array of prizes and in particular a large plush penguin that she would definitely struggle to fit in her luggage to take back to L.A., but it is too cute with its yellow scarf and beak to not attempt to win. "I am going to get Frosty." She tells Patrick as she passes some cash over to the stall owner.

"Frosty is a terrible name for a penguin." He mutters earning a scowl from the brunette at his side before she chucks a red beanbag towards the highest black bucket but missing. However, she isn't far off. She has a good action, and he suspects that she played softball in her youth. "It is! That's the name of a snowman, not a penguin."

"What would you call it then?" She asks, evidently exasperated by both his negativity and how she is missing the buckets.

"I love alliteration… Peter? Pablo? Payton?" He suggests whilst watching her fail at the task. "Ah! Patrick!"

"You're in an idiot." She murmurs, but he can tell that she doesn't mean it. "So, Mr Boy Wonder, when did you leave this life?"

"When I was nineteen. I wanted to before then but stepping out into the world was scary even with Angela at my side." He explains, eyes fixed on her throwing action which does appear to be improving every attempt. "It was my dad passing that made me take the leap. One of the best decisions I have ever made."

"I'm sorry." She says, her focus now on him rather than the game, a look of upset etched into her features.

"Don't be. He wasn't a good man, and he was a lousy father." His coldness would make most confused, but this is something that she relates to, and he realises this by her lack of reaction. "You have three brothers, right?" Her neutral expression changes at this query, her eyebrows knitting together in wonder at how he can possibly know this. He can't actually be psychic… right? "You said before when you were looking at property listings. I think you said their names are Tommy, Stan and Jimmy."

"Oh." She replies, "Yeah, that's right."

"And you looked after them?"

"Yes, after my mom died." She turns away whilst divulging this, instead trying to concentrate on the game, feeling awkward about this discussion subject. "My father was a waste of space too." She states before hissing in disappointment at missing the top prize bucket once again.

Teresa now only has one more round with the money she paid, and she is gripping the beanbags in her hands tightly, but that may be because of the conversation topic too. Patrick notices her tenseness and holds out his own hands, silently asking for her to pass them to her, and she amazes herself when she actually does what he wants. He appears to inspect them for a few seconds before throwing one up in the air to test its weight. "I like to think I was a good father to Charlotte." He verbally muses, lining up his shot to avoid catching her piercing eye contact at this revelation. "Perhaps I wasn't around as much as I could have been because of my work in deception… but I always tried my best." He then effortlessly chucks the first beanbag into the desired bucket.

"I am sure you were a good father." She soothes before he has a chance to lob the next one and she spots him squeezing it tight in anguish.

"Yeah." He states, biting hard on his bottom lip to stop any tears from falling. "I saw how terrible my old man was and I knew I couldn't do that to Charlotte." Then the next bag catapults into the container. "I carried some of my father's poor qualities for sure. He was a conman and so was I, but I didn't impose anything on her. That was the key difference." His deliberations sure do raise more questions than give answers in her head, but she does think she is being invited in to catch a glance into his soul. "So, what are you going to name him then?" Patrick asks, indicating to the penguin on the top shelf.

"You haven't won him yet." She replies with a light laugh and a smile that makes the butterflies soar in his stomach.

"You doubt me? That's disappointing." And he smoothly tosses the final beanbag into the top bucket before an expression of smugness overtakes him. "See."

Teresa doesn't know whether to cheer and clap or pretend that the act doesn't impress her. She ends up going for neither approach and just remains rooted to the spot, clearly shocked at his skill. "How did you do that first time?" She eventually comes out with as the stall owner reaches for the item to give to the winner.

"Years of practice." He says as if it is nothing whilst taking the penguin from the man which he then in turn passes to its new owner. She was already smiling but it turns into the biggest grin which he has ever seen her create as she cuddles it close to her chest. "So, what's he called?"

"Frosty."

"Of course he is." He says with a sigh.

They then continue their walk around the carnival, now even more relaxed than they were previously. It isn't at all weird that they're alone together. Her worries about Grace and Rigs not being around are long forgotten. They stop periodically to gawp at some of the carnival acts like a fire breather, two women doing acrobatics and a man doing close-up magic that has her amazed whereas Jane seems unmoved. "That was brilliant!" She praises as they traipse away.

"It was textbook."

"Let me guess, you can do magic too." He doesn't say anything, he just raises his eyebrow before they continue on their way.

It is after they have a donut each that the temperature seems to drop helped by a sudden breeze that makes the trees lining the park space rustle. She tries to not think about it but then she involuntarily shivers and his focus snaps to her in an instant. "You're cold." Patrick states in a matter-o-fact manner, kind of robot like and she is unsure what to say in response. Any words are trapped in her throat when he starts to shrug off his jacket which he then holds out to her nonchalantly as if the action means nothing. "No arguments." It is another shiver hitting her that has any rational thought dissipating, and she is passing him her handbag and Frosty with one hand as she takes his jacket with the other.

"Thank you." She utters whilst putting it on. It is warm from his body heat and smells handsome which is a word she never thought she would use to describe a smell before. It obviously has traces of his cologne and oh the scent is divine. At first it pacifies her but then it makes something stir in her core. The main thing is though, it keeps the chill away and she sends him an appreciative smile as he passes back her belongings.

The newfound heat causes her to yawn, although it is probably more because her insomnia is still causing her grief. It has been better, gradually, over the past few days but still she is only sleeping for half of what she should be every night. "Am I boring you?" He teases which is obviously light-hearted, but it does make her panic slightly. It is written all over her face.

"No, I'm sorry." She stresses, "I've not slept well since my accident." She explains before she starts walking again, knowing she would feel much calmer not having his full concentration on her. "Insomnia… my partner wants me to try pills. He thinks it would be good for me." Teresa realises while saying this that this is the first time that she has mentioned Marcus all night and to be honest until this point, she hasn't really thought about him either.

"You don't want that." Jane is quick to say, shaking his head for good measure.

"No? It is refreshing to hear this outlook." She reveals. "He is very keen."

"He has probably never been hooked on them." This has Teresa looking to her left and up at the man at his side, comprehending from his comment that this is something he is all too familiar with.

"And you have?" He nods but making sure to keep his gaze averted. "My father was too." She murmurs, turning to focus forwards once more. "I think that is why I am not keen. It is getting better I think, it certainly has been the last few nights, but I think that's because I am more relaxed. Away from the stresses of daily life."

"You could try hypnotism."

"Quackery."

"Depends on who is doing it I suppose." And it is easy to connect the dots that this is yet another skill of his.

"Let me get this straight." Teresa begins, just as they are passed by a clown drinking a can of beer, evidently done for the day but this may be because at this time, most of the young children have headed home. "You have a good enough cold reading talent to have made a decent living as a psychic, you can do close-up magic and you can hypnotise people?" She questions and he releases a non-committed hum at her side. "You really are something Patrick Jane."

This makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There has not been anyone who has made him feel like this other than his late wife and this thought both excites and frightens him. It has been so long. This is practically unchartered territory and worst still it is with someone who isn't even available. It is almost cruel to himself for persevering, but it is as if she is a drug, and he is hooked. Properly, undoubtedly hooked. He slows to a stop when this realisation kicks in and she appears baffled beside him, her brow dipped and a frown on her face. She is about to ask if something is wrong and he is about to reveal the thoughts plaguing his mind, but then something changes in his expression as a serious look takes over and his brilliant blue eyes are fixated on something near her right ear. "You've got a…" He mutters and reaches forward, carefully, with his fingers to her dark hair. His hand is retracted almost as soon as it makes contact with the brunette locks, but there is a tiny spider on the end of a single web, cascading between his skin. Patrick casually flings the Arachnida away to the side. The deed turns Teresa's blood cold.

She has been ignoring things that could be considered "moments" all night. Him calling her beautiful, she didn't overanalyse. Cuddling up on the ghost train, it didn't even cross her mind as being unusual. Him making sure that she went away with the penguin soft toy she wanted to win, in her mind it was an act of a friend. He gave her his jacket because she was quivering like it was the easiest decision he has ever made, and she took it without a second of thought. But his hand being so close that it would have been incredibly easy to sweep the backs of his fingers down her cheek affectionately and suddenly there are alarm bells resounding in her head. It is one thing too many and how tense she swiftly becomes doesn't go unnoticed. Most people would probably assume that it was the presence of the spider that has her straining, but he isn't most people. He went too far. This was never a date, not really, she is taken. "I should go." It is close to a stutter which leaves her mouth despite the three words usually being very easy to say. "It is getting late."

"Okay… Do you want a lift?" There is the voice in the back of her head, muffled but still screaming at her to say yes, inquisitive about where it could lead.

However, levelheadedness takes over. "I will get a cab, it is fine." And then what follows is an awkward ten minutes of them waiting together on the sidewalk for her taxi to arrive. They try to make small talk, remarking on the atmosphere of the carnival and the people passing them by but eventually they resort to a difficult silence. It is a relief to them both when the taxi pulls up and she is returning his jacket before getting inside.

Once she is settled in the back of the car, her fingertips find her engagement ring and home in on the bumps of the silver clasps but the smoothness of the diamond. She thinks about Marcus, properly, and how upset he would be if he knew about what went on tonight. Teresa never thought that she would or could turn into this sort of person. She doesn't like it; this woman is certainly unwelcome. She is engaged and if it weren't for a terrible accident, then she would already be a married woman. Grace may have jokingly suggested that tonight was a date, but she didn't mean it. However, on reflection there is no doubt in her mind that if anyone saw them go about their evening, they would get mistaken as a couple.

Still at the carnival site, Patrick glances down at the gold wedding band on his hand and swallows at nothing. What was he thinking? How could he do this to her?