A/n I hope people are enjoying this! Writing it is a lot of fun.

3.

They both sleep, but they don't have just any old sleep, they have the best sleep they've had in ages. Turns out having someone by your side is very comforting as you doze off… or maybe a part of it is that somehow during the night, in the king size bed, she shuffled closer to him and now she's nestled into his side with an arm cradling her form. This is all fine, when they're sleeping, but when Lisbon starts to rise thanks to the alarm resounding from her own bedroom, she goes from being very content to horrified in barely a second. Her whole-body freezes, all she manages is a gulp when the realisation truly hits her of the scenario that she's found herself in. "Morning." He states, comprehending that she is awake by her suddenly tense posture.

She was hoping that he wasn't awake yet, that she could carefully pull herself away without him noticing but of course he is awake. This is Patrick Jane, the man who never sleeps. Hang on, if he is awake then he is completely conscious that he has his arm around her. The thought is like being hit in the face with ice cold water and she's immediately scrambling away, pushing herself to the furthest point on the opposite end of the bed. "Why didn't you push me away?!" She shouts, completely perturbed about the situation.

Jane frowns at her panic, which surprises her because she assumed that he would find all this hilarious. "You were comfortable." He replies, like it explains everything. "I didn't want to wake you. You needed sleep from the restless night before."

She wants to continue to be mad, she really does, it is the most obvious option to her but his clear concern for her wellbeing makes her back down. He was just being nice. It doesn't mean anything. "I'm sorry." She apologises, running the back of a hand across her forehead nervously.

"Don't be." He softly replies and when she glances back at him, all she can see is the love in his sea blue eyes and her mind starts to drift as she thinks of what if. "Can I make you something for breakfast?"

"I'm okay… but a coffee would be good."

"Then a coffee you shall have."

Despite the hiccup when she immediately awoke, the rest of the morning is actually very pleasant. She got up slowly, giving her hair a wash in the flash shower before chucking on some comfy clothes of a pair of blue jeans and a Chicago Bears hoodie her brother Stan gave her for Christmas. She got her coffee and as he passed it over to her he silently admired how good she looks, not just physically but she also seems so much more relaxed than usual. It is nice. If he said something though, she would be horrified, not only because he would be breaching a non-communicated agreement between them both but also because she does not think she looks attractive like this. In the super casual clothes, no make-up and her wet hair tied up messily in a bun.

She is still wearing the fake wedding ring. At first when she put it on it felt so heavy on her finger, weird, but now she doesn't even think about it. It has so quickly and effortlessly become a part of her. Of course, he notices it there but doesn't mention it, he doesn't even mention the absence of her mother's cross although at some point he will have to inquire about that. For now though, he is happy to enjoy the peace and quiet before they have to focus on the case once more.

Jane suggested that they play poker to pass the time, in fact he has a new pack of cards – that he brought with him – at the ready, but she is immediately shaking her head. At first, he is a little troubled, but then she proposes playing pool instead and he's smiling as they head out to the patio in the backyard to get it all set up.

He could have guessed that she would be incredibly competitive, he already knew she was but when she's playing this particular game, she's like a different animal. Lisbon loves to taunt him as she effortlessly sinks many of the balls into the pockets, and even though he hates to lose, it is just nice to see her so laid back and having fun. And who knew she was such a good pool player? She would sure give Cho a run for his money. "What's the score now?" He asks, and he regrets it almost immediately.

"I stopped keeping score a while ago." She shrugs with faux nonchalance. "Because I'm whooping your ass." And with that she pots another ball.

"Fair enough." He mutters, starting to get frustrated at his own form, when his phone chimes from his pant pocket.

You owe me a psychic session. I hope you are in touch with the spirits today. Will come to you this afternoon at three if you aren't busy. Text me your address. Adrian Clarkson.

"He wants to come to the house for the session." The mentalist murmurs with a frown.

"Who does?" She retorts and when he gazes at her he realises that she is so wrapped up in the game and giving in to relaxation that she has forgotten what they are actually doing here. Even though he wishes they were here, in this lovely house, together, to have fun and play games, they have a case.

It is almost unbelievable to him that he is going to be the one to remind her that, it is usually the other way round. "Clarkson."

Suddenly it is like she is brought back down to earth. She messes up her shot, sending the white cue ball rattling into the pocket, and he observes the fleeting flash of fear taking over her features. Although it is very brief. She manages to compose herself, find her poise, but she still seems a little panicked when she exclaims, "But that's only because he wants to know exactly where we live!"

"Isn't that a good thing though? It means we are edging closer." He's genuinely confused now. He wanted to use this time to get closer to her, to mend their relationship but she is unusually jumpy. It is strange and he doesn't like it, he's worried.

"Yes, you're right. I'm sorry." She sighs as she pulls her hair tie from her gradually drying hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. If they are expecting company this afternoon, then she needs to get ready to play the part of the rich wife. "God what is wrong with me?" He knows that her question is rhetorical because of how low she says it, barely above a whisper, like it is aimed at herself.

But he cannot help but answer her. "It is okay to be nervous, we are dealing with three murderers here." It isn't an easy case and they both know it.

"Hm. I'm going to go and update the team, you set up the meet." She instructs, having very quickly transformed from the laidback Teresa back to the proficient Agent Lisbon. "Might see if I can bug wherever you do the session."

"You brought bugs with you?"

"Of course." He doesn't know why he is surprised; she is always prepared when it comes to missions, and he thinks she's been even more on it since joining the federal bureau. He thinks that she is still trying to impress her new colleagues, but she doesn't need to. He knows that they already love her.

And how could they not?

xxx

Preparing for the session takes a little longer than he was expecting. He stayed in his bedroom for a long time, trying to get himself in the right headspace, ready to turn being a psychic again back on. It used to come so naturally to him, and he is sure the team assume it still does but it doesn't. It reminds him of all he has lost and the pain he has caused so many people, but he will do it, for a case. In the future when he is better acquainted to the unit then he will try and find it in his power to just say no. Right now, they are too far gone in this plan, and it would be risky now to change it, Clarkson would for sure smell a rat.

When he returns downstairs, he is wearing a different, shinier suit and he eyes up the seating area they arranged (and secretly bugged), just to check that everything looks alright. The buzzer from the front gate sounding has him nervously running his fingers through his curls and he takes a deep breath before letting the suspect into their house. "This is some place." The man comments as soon as he steps foot into the property. "You must have some money."

"Just a bit." The consultant brags before indicating for his guest to follow him to the two armchairs positioned near each other in the living room. There are hidden microphones under both chairs which Lisbon managed to set-up with ease, and the feed is going directly to Wylie back at the Austin office who is already intently listening in with Cho hovering over his shoulder.

They're about to start when the brunette strides in with two glasses of water, looking completely different to how she did earlier on. Her hair has been blow-dried and styled to bounce as she walks – in heels despite being inside – and she's wearing a very sexy black skirt that sits just above her knees and an overly revealing cream blouse, with a different necklace to the one she wore at the country club… she still isn't wearing her cross. "Teresa, you look smashing." The scheming man compliments with a sneer, almost undressing her with his eyes. She manages to find the confidence to not let this bother her and she simply places the glasses down on the small table sat between the two blokes. "Will you join us?"

"I won't be." She replies quickly, making him raise an eyebrow. "Patrick likes the peace and quiet when he's working."

"Shame." He almost huffs as she swiftly leaves them to it, dropping her self-assured posture as soon as she is out of view. "You've got some woman there Patrick." Jane manages to restrain himself from doing something completely out of character and pushing this guy to the floor with fury. The licks of his lips, his smug smile, his audacity to blatantly check her out. She may not actually be his wife, but he feels some sort of responsibility to protect her, and he has felt this way for a long time. "I don't know how you have the time to do this when you could be doing that."

The mentalist takes a sip of his water, trying his best not to lash out but finding it increasingly difficult. "Hm." He hums as he puts the glass back down. "There is a reason why I don't like her around when I do my work. She's…distracting." He hates to talk about her in this way, she deserves better than this. Why are men such pigs? "I think we are ready to begin. First-"

"I don't believe in this mumbo jumbo." Clarkson brashly interrupts him with no shame. "I just wanted to talk."

"You paid almost five thousand dollars to just talk to me?" He replies whilst cocking his head, thinking about how he wasn't expected this guy to be so forward and calm about his dodgy dealings. "You could have just, I don't know, talked to me." Patrick allows himself to be snappy, deciding that the man would just assume that his attitude is because of him denying his "psychic powers" and not because he thinks he deserves being taken down a peg or two for his poor behaviour towards women.

"You mentioned being interested in investments and that's my area." He tells him smoothly, leaning back in the armchair casually. "I am here to offer my services."

"Wow." Jane acts surprised. "I wasn't expecting to look into that so soon after moving here."

"Well, the sooner you start, the sooner you're making more money. Not that you need it…" The last statement is murmured as the guest scans his surroundings, taking in the lavish décor. "My business partners are out of town for the rest of the week, but if you're interested then we can set up a meeting for when they're back."

Hook, line, and sinker. "I will have to talk to Teresa but when your partners are back, I think we should talk."

It is almost too easy. This uber difficult case that they had to take from Austin PD is becoming surprisingly simple to crack. There must be something that they're not getting because three couples being murdered and there being no solid evidence linking their three suspects to the crime, nothing that would get them convicted anyway, they can't be this cool about their deals.

Why do they kill them? Why not just take the money and run? There are still a lot of questions that they need answers to, otherwise this mission could go south very fast.

xxx

"It all seems very odd to me." Jane murmurs, with a mouthful of Chinese takeout. Even though he did a grocery shop just yesterday, they both fancied some greasy food and couldn't be bothered to cook it. So now they're both sat at the kitchen table, with wooden chopsticks gathering up noodles as they enjoy their dinner and the company. "He's much more of a straight shooter than I was expecting."

"We are going to have to be careful." Lisbon states as she pushes away her near empty cardboard container before picking up her bottle of beer.

They've spent the past two hours talking about the case and now she is tired. She knows if she doesn't occupy her mind with something else soon then she is going to have trouble sleeping… even if it is beside him. Assuming he is still okay with the arrangement. She knits her brow together as she focusses on him while he attempts to get hold of the last noodle in his container but he's struggling. He is concentrating so hard that his jaw is tense, and she knows that he is becoming annoyed at the repeated failed efforts. She smiles at the sight because for some reason it makes her feel warm inside.

They have been through a lot, together, but at the end of the day they can have dinner together and effortlessly enjoy each other's company. It is nice. Much nicer than she was expecting before their mission begun.

Eventually, he gives up his quest and discards his takeout container to the side in a grump making a chuckle escape her and immediately all his attention is back on her, gazing back inquisitively at his partner. "What are we going to do to kill time?" She asks, mainly to stop him from questioning her, but then he flashes her a mischievous grin and instantly she wants the ground to swallow her up. It is almost a relief when he presents a pack of cards to her. "Not poker." She groans.

"Not just any game of poker." He accompanies this with a smirk.

"I'm not playing strip poker with you!"

"Not strip poker, too… undignified." Although it could have been fun, he muses. "Truth poker." She sends him a perplexed expression, knowing that whatever this game is he has just made it up on the spot. "Sometimes I feel like we could be more open and honest with each other."

"You literally spent years hiding all your schemes from me and now you want the truth."

"That was before." Before he killed Red John, when it wasn't safe for her to be completely in the know. "This is now."

They stare at each other for a few moments, her trying to process his proposition whilst he silently wishes that he could in fact read minds so he would know what she is thinking. "Fine." She utters with a resigned sigh. "Let me get more drink first."

The first game lasts a lot longer than either of them were expecting. Maybe he is going easy on her, she thinks, whereas he is now wondering whether she has actually been practising. Eventually though the inevitable happens and he wins with a smug look on his face for good measure and she has a large glug of beer in preparation for his question. "What do you think of the new team?" He enquires as he starts to shuffle the cards in preparation for their next hand.

Lisbon wasn't sure what she was expecting him to ask but it wasn't this and he immediately can tell this from the puzzlement she expresses across her features. "That's what you wanted to ask? You could have asked me that anyway."

"If I asked you that on a normal day you would give me a diplomatic answer. I want to know what you really think."

For a few moments she just sits in silence, mulling over his response, but he is probably right. It is unprofessional to be anything but tactful about your colleagues, that was drilled into her from her first CBI training retreat. Honestly though she hasn't got anything truly bad to say about the unit. "Abbott seems like a good boss, working with him has changed my opinions of him. He is firm but fair, what you need in a leader." She tried her best to do just this when she led the serious crimes unit back in California. "Fischer is a tough cookie, but we get along. She blows hot and cold, but I think we could be good friends. Wylie's enthusiasm takes some getting used to but he's a great asset to the team and I am loving working with Cho again."

"Your brother."

"My brother." She replies with grin, remembering their exchange in the car just a couple of days prior. "Deal again."

She may have not been overly enthusiastic at the thought of playing poker with him, but she does feel herself start to unwind. It is better they fill the time doing something otherwise she will start to consume herself with the mission once more even though she needs the respite from such fixations. However, she does sense her enthusiasm start to drip away when he wins again, but this time much more easily. "Do you still talk to people from the CBI days, other than Rigsby and Grace?"

"What are with these lame questions?" She teasingly retorts but he just raises an eyebrow. "Yeah of course. Not many because most of the people I liked are dead or in jail, but I am in contact with Hightower and Minelli." This doesn't surprise him. Even though she and Madeline Hightower got off on the wrong foot, they did form a bond and a great friendship. Minelli was a kind of father figure to her; he remembers how bummed she was when he retired. The unit was not quite the same without him and she missed him a lot. Despite being perfectly capable at leading her team, there were times, after he was gone, when she could have done with his advice – mainly about how to cope with the man sat before her right now.

Remembering her previous comment about his questions being "lame" he decides to step it up a notch after winning the following game, putting forward something that he has been wondering all day. "Why aren't you wearing your mother's cross?"

She knows that she deserves the difficult question, she did tease him the last round, but she wasn't quite ready for this and that is obvious by her reaction. Fleetingly she expresses hurt as her mouth forms an "O" and he watches her shoulder tense, it appears he has unintentionally hit a nerve. "She wouldn't approve... I don't think. Me pretending to be someone's wife." She eventually reveals, but he can see that she is reluctant in doing so. "She always talked about marriage being a sacred thing. I guess she would have to believe that to stay married to my father." She stares down at the wedding ring on her hand and frowns, she could have taken it off when they are alone, but she hasn't done. Is that strange? And is it difficult for him that he's wearing his actual wedding ring whilst pretending to be married to her when they are not?

So many questions are fluttering about her head, and she isn't sure whether verbalising them is wise. Thankfully he notices her internal struggle and simply hums with a curt nod before shuffling the cards again.

When he wins the subsequent hand, he can tell that her patience has run out and they are very unlikely to play another. He is fine with that of course, they could watch a bit of TV before retiring to bed, it is not a problem. That doesn't mean he isn't going to ask a final question though and if she thought the last one was tough to answer, this is almost impossible. "Why are you worried about us kissing?"

After the fourth round of losing, and his question being such a personal one at that, she sharply exhales and folds her arms across her chest as she leans back in the chair. Suddenly she is feeling defensive, and he knows that before she even opens her mouth. "You know what, I'm bored of this. I don't why I agreed to play you at poker, and for truths!"

"Okay I understand." It is fair if she has had enough. It is getting late, and they've had some quite intense discussions about the case this evening, she probably could have done with an evening on the couch watching a movie instead of losing to him at cards. However, he does want an answer. "How about this? We won't play anymore. You can ask me anything and I will be honest in my response, but you have to answer my question."

It is an interesting proposition. Honestly, the last thing she wants to do is give him a response but the opportunity of being able to get a truthful answer from him about anything is too tempting. There are so many things she wants to ask him, just the one question isn't enough, but she certainly is not going to waste the chance. She isn't an idiot. "Fine." He smiles, like he has won but when her question comes, he very quickly realises that he hasn't. "Why did you leave me on the beach?"

She suspects that she hears him suck in a breath but that would be so unlike him that she doesn't trust her own ears. "To protect you."

"But what do you mean by that?" She presses. "To protect me physically or my job? You loved to go on about deniability." Lisbon cannot help the bitterness seep through her tone as she pushes for a response. "Or did you think I would have stopped your plan? So you manipulated the situation and left me stranded."

"That's more than one question."

She groans and harshly pushes back her chair, before storming out through the open patio door and stepping out onto the veranda. He watches her go and frowns, he had no idea she still had these thoughts, he assumed they were past all this. Although, if he really thinks about it, they've never actually discussed it. He apologised to her in one of his letters, but he doesn't know for sure that she received that one, and he didn't really explain his logic in it anyway. Jane doesn't blame her for wanting answers. It is the least he could do considering all the hurt he caused her, but that doesn't mean it is going to be easy.

After giving her a little time to calm down, he half-heartedly joins her outside and finds her sat on a bench looking out at the lit backyard. A clear expression of annoyance is fixed on her face, and it is one that he has seen far too many times before, but that is his own fault, and he knows that. Back when they first started to work together it never bothered him, he would always just shrug and move on but now, it hurts seeing her this way. The guilt he feels is huge.

He joins her on the bench, sitting on the opposite end giving her plenty of space. He notes the aggravated side-eye she sends him, and he almost shrinks back into the wooden slacks. "Okay." He starts following a deep exhale. "I was concerned about your safety. I was meeting Red John and I didn't know how that was going to go down, and it ended up being worse than I thought. If you came then you could have died in that explosion and that would have killed me." He admits, his expression drooping with sorrow and even though she is very peeved with him, she cannot help but start to feel a little sorry for the man sat at the other end of the bench. "Yes, I think there was a part of me that thought you may have tried to stop my plan. I think even though you were saying that it was okay, I was worried your morality would kick in and you would stop it. Plus, I didn't want to get you into trouble."

"Never stopped you before." She grumbles.

"This was different." He is quick to say and makes her full attention turn to him, she even tilts her body slightly in his direction, a sign that she is no longer as angry, and she wants to let him in. "And I am truly sorry for leaving you on the beach and in such a cruel way. I've felt terrible about it ever since."

Hearing him apologise always seems to be a big occasion, it isn't really a word which is at the forefront of his vocabulary. She thinks that she could recall each and every time he has ever uttered the word to her and on appreciating that she realises that this means a lot to her. He means a lot to her. "I'm not worried about the kiss per say." She finds herself murmuring and he encouragingly nods, hoping that she continues. "I'm worried about what it could do to us."

"Lisbon, a kiss isn't going to ruin our friendship, we are too strong for that." But what if we then want more? She wants to ask, but doesn't, so instead she simply hums, and he can sense that this isn't it. She's still worried. "Okay, hear me out…" He starts, speaking the words so slowly that she is immediately preparing herself to say no. "We are most likely going to have to kiss at some point if we want to keep this charade believable. Would it be less daunting for you if the first time we did that, it wasn't in public?"

"What are you saying?" Her voice is small, almost trembling as the nerves that she has felt building since they began this adventure start to ramp up dramatically.

The curly-haired man briefly glances to his shoes, searching for just an ounce of confidence to push this interaction further and when he looks back to her she notes the seriousness of his expression before he shifts along the wooden bench, closer to her, and for a second, she is worried that she will pass out. Is he…?

Jane takes a deep breath as he examines her features for any indication that what he is about to do is not okay. Although she seems unsure there is also an element of curiosity seeping in and when she subconsciously drags her tongue over her bottom lip, he finally makes his move. He is cautious about it, slow in his action as he gently rests one hand on her thigh and the other sweeps around the back of her neck and into her hair, so he can pull her closer letting their lips touch – to Lisbon though it feels so quick and any remaining breath in her lungs just disappears in an instant.

She isn't sure how long they kiss for; it is long enough for her to start deeply thinking about how good he is at it but short enough that she is left wanting more and the shame begins to sink in for having such thoughts. Almost as quickly as he was touching her, he suddenly isn't again, and his hands are back resting on his lap. "See that wasn't so bad." He shrugs and the casualness brings her back to the present with a thud. "We should probably get some rest. Briefing at eight o'clock sharp according to Abbott." And then he gets up and starts to walk away, like what they did meant nothing at all.

It shouldn't have done but it has done. Her heart is hammering in her chest and her mind is foggy, like his lips actually look her breath away. He is a great kisser… and now the butterflies are soaring in her stomach once more. How is she meant to now get into bed with this man? How is she meant to stop herself from feeling anything enamoured towards him?

He may have made it look easy to walk away from her but as soon as he steps foot back into the house, he has to take a deep breath. For such a long time he has locked any non-platonic feelings for her away because that was the best option. For him and his revenge mission but also to keep her safe. Now those hazards aren't there but he still hasn't allowed himself to fall for her, but that kiss has made any rationality fly out of the window. It meant a hell of a lot to him and although that's incredibly scary there is also a part of him that is excited.

Very excited.