Patrick couldn't remember when he'd been this happy. Nothing had really changed between them, well, apart from the sex, and OK, that was a big change, but other than that, they were as they always had been, only better. It felt right. He didn't want to think about anything beyond that, now was all that mattered. His heart was full.
They'd driven out to Lake Travis and had lunch in a beautiful restaurant that overlooked the water. He loved spoiling her, loved to see her face light up when he surprised her. It was a little scary how much his own happiness now seemed to depend on hers, it probably wasn't very healthy but, he didn't care. He just wanted to please her.
Their server cleared the table and Patrick sighed contentedly, closing his eyes and tipping back his head, turning his face to the sun.
"What are you thinking about?" Teresa asked quietly.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Oh, nothing much, just enjoying the moment." He sipped his iced tea, admiring the view. "It's very lovely here."
"It's beautiful. We should come back one night; they have live music. And dancing." She said, her eyes twinkling.
"Dancing? I remember the last time we danced." He looked down at his foot, waggling it for effect. "I think you broke a toe."
"Jane, I did not!" she cried, aggrieved.
"Well, bruised definitely." He rolled his eyes archly. "And you kept trying to lead."
Teresa laughed. "Keep it up Jane, see where it gets you."
Patrick smiled wide, he enjoyed nothing quite like he enjoyed bickering with Teresa Lisbon. "In traction most likely."
"Ha-ha. You're hilarious. Do you know what will put you in traction?"
"Erm…my comedic timing by the sounds of it." He stood up and held her chair for her. "Come on twinkle toes."
He crooked his arm, and she took it, shaking her head at him. "You're incorrigible."
"Thank you. I do try." He grinned down at her. "Would you like to come back this weekend?"
"What about your toes?" she enquired playfully.
"I'm willing to take the risk." He said, opening the car door for her before climbing in beside her.
"So, what's on the menu tonight?" Teresa asked as he manoeuvred out of the parking lot.
"Unbelievable, you've only just finished lunch and already you're thinking about dinner." He shook his head with a tut.
"I'm only wondering if I need to stock up on ant-acid." She said innocently.
"Well, that's just offensive Lisbon, now I'm not going to tell you a thing."
"Oh, come on…"
"Nope. Not a thing." She turned to stare out of the window, a smile tugging at her lips to match his own.
He reached over to take her hand, holding it on the central rest, cherishing their camaraderie. His heart full.
"OK, what do you need?" Patrick asked, as they pulled up outside the grocery store.
"Not much, bread, milk, tequila maybe." She grinned.
"The essentials then. Excellent." He turned the engine off. "You wait here, I won't be long."
"What? Why?" she asked, confused.
"Just let me surprise you." He gave her a look he knew she couldn't refuse.
"Fine." She sighed "Surprise me."
Patrick headed into the store and snagged a cart. He bought bread, milk, eggs, the ingredients he needed for tonight, along with anything else he could think of plus a couple of nice bottles of wine. Mission accomplished in under 30 minutes, he headed out to the car feeling very pleased with himself.
He was still feeling pleased with himself an hour later when he finished the dinner prep and popped everything into the fridge, ready for later. He made a pot of tea and headed upstairs with a spring in his step to fetch Teresa.
He stopped in the bedroom doorway, watching her as she re-hung some photographs above the dresser. "How's it going?"
"Just putting my rogue's gallery back up." She laughed but he could hear the pride in her voice, she loved her brothers fiercely.
"So I see." He said wandering over to take a closer look. He cast a glance around the room, noticing the bits and pieces she'd put out, a wooden trinket box that looked like it had been made in shop class, a few candles, some artwork, unused but pretty perfume bottles and lotions. His gazed darted back to the print that hung beside the bed, a copy of one of the paintings they'd used in the MacGee case. He grinned, remembering, that had been a fun one. "Is this…" he began, pointing at it.
"Yes, but I can take it down if it bothers you. It's not really my taste anyway." She said, matter of fact.
"Why would it bother me?" He asked, his expression quizzical. He looked from it to her, and his smile faltered. "Ah." Realisation dawned. "Pike gave it to you." A romantic reminder of their first date. And she'd hung it on the wall. "It's fine." He shrugged.
He stared at the picture, discomfited, unbidden images of Pike and Teresa filling his mind. How many times had Pike been here? How many times had he held her, kissed her, slept in her bed? He closed his eyes as he felt the other man's presence around him like a ghost; only Marcus Pike was very real. And she'd hung his picture on the wall. His good mood evaporated, why, why had he come upstairs?
He cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. "I, erm, made a pot of tea, would you like some?"
"Sure. I'll just finish up here and be right down." She smiled at him distractedly as she dropped things back into the box she'd unpacked, oblivious to his inner turmoil. He slipped out and headed back down to the kitchen.
He poured the tea and leant against the countertop; his brow furrowed as he sipped from his cup. Jealousy and guilt seemed to have their claws in him, and he wasn't enjoying it at all.
He had absolutely no reason to feel jealous, he'd won, hadn't he? She chose him. And guilt? That was for marks. He was sorry Pike had been caught in the crossfire, sorry he'd been hurt, but that was it. He refused to feel guilty for loving her.
Teresa appeared at the bottom of the stairs and wandered over; he handed her cup to her. "Thanks." She drank, regarding him "What's up? Problems with dinner?"
"No, dinner is fine." He smiled half-heartedly.
"OK. So what's wrong, I don't recognise this face you're making." She pulled herself up onto the counter beside him. "Jane?"
"Ah…It's nothing, I'm just being a little…irrational." He stared down at his feet, refusing to meet her gaze.
"Irrational?" she sounded perplexed. He sighed heavily.
"Yes, irrational. I guess you could say that I'm feeling a bit…jealous." He finished his tea and set down the cup, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's a novel feeling. And to be honest, I'm not enjoying it."
"Jealous?" she frowned at him.
He nodded. "Of Pike."
"Why?" Teresa asked, dumbfounded.
He laughed with no trace of humour. "Oh, I don't know, why do you think?" that came out harsher than he'd intended. He sighed again. "I'm sorry." He said, squeezing her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to talking about these things, I haven't felt these things in a long time. But this…" he gestured, indicating the two of them. "I have no defences anymore Teresa, I feel...well I just feel." He held her gaze for a moment. "Why did you put it back up?" he asked softly.
"The picture? It was just there. Please don't read anything into it, there's no hidden meaning. Really. It was just there." She tugged on his arm, pulling him to stand between her legs, facing her. "I choose you." She cupped his face. "I always have."
He placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs brushing against her waist, and lowered his forehead to hers. "I'm an ass."
Teresa laughed "No you're not. Hey, there have been plenty of times I've been jealous, and we weren't even together then."
"I know. It was fun." He put his arms around her and drew her close.
"Now you're an ass." She said against his chest as it rumbled with subdued laughter.
"How do I make it stop Teresa?" He pulled back to look at her, brushing hair from her face. "It's like I invited him in and now I see him everywhere, on the couch, in your bed…"
"He never was if that helps. In my bed I mean."
He looked at her puzzled. "But I saw him…"
"I know. The night you brought the cannoli over. When you left, I was…upset. Marcus went home."
He tried to process how that made him feel. "Why were you upset?"
"Seriously? You told me to do whatever makes me happy, that that was what was important to you, and then you left. I wanted so much for you to tell me you didn't want me to go, you wanted me to stay with you. But you just left." She shook her head. "What makes me happy Jane, is you." She wrapped her arms around his neck, "I'm sorry about the picture, I never gave it a moment's thought, it means nothing, and I'll take it down." He looked at her carefully, gauging the truth in her remarks and then smiled, relieved. "Let's make our own memories to chase away the phantoms." She murmured, placing her mouth on his and pulling him close for an ardent kiss.
Patrick decided he was definitely starting to feel better.
