A/n This is the final chapter meaning the final author's note too.

I want to take this opportunity to say I am really grateful for all your kind comments and your enthusiasm for not just this fic but for all of them. It gives me the energy to keep writing which is good for me because of how cathartic I find it. In a world and life full of stress and anxiety, writing gives me respite from that.

Whenever I see anything about my fics on Twitter I always pinch myself that people could say such lovely things about something I have written. You are all brilliant. Thank you.

/

Epilogue

Some cases get messy. No-one in law enforcement has a long career without blips and casualties but that doesn't make it any easier. They may be trained to fire guns but the sound of them going off brings fear into their being because of what the consequences could be. When Jane and Lisbon signed up for their undercover mission they knew and understood the risks that were involved but they were both so overly focussed on the effect it could have on them, their relationship, that it was almost like they were blind to the real dangers: the three men responsible for many deaths.

It is not going to be a stress-free one to wrap up even if their three suspects are off the street. There is paperwork, debriefs, recoveries and not just physical ones. There are emotional wounds to heal.

The investigating is also not done. There are many questions that need answers, such as how was this allowed to get this far? It shouldn't have become so chaotic. Wylie discovered that the trio are much more intelligent than they previously thought when he sussed how they managed to abduct Lisbon undetected. They rerouted the CCTV feed and looped the footage of the outside perimeter. How, is something that he is still trying to determine whilst his colleagues clear up the rest of the mess.

Abbott has spent most of the morning in his office to find some poise to conclude what went wrong. No blood should have been shed and no-one else should have lost their life, it was their job to stop that from happening again, but there could have been even more, and he keeps telling himself that. It was looking bad for a while.

There may have been a fatality… but it wasn't Patrick Jane.

The rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor accompanied by the drip of his morphine and his chest slowly rising up and down is almost hypnotic. She can't take her eyes off him because she's so thankful that he is alive.

This isn't the first time she has been sat by his bedside in hospital, oh no. There was the time he was drowned, the twice he ingested belladonna and when his Malibu house blew up with him having to be pulled from the wreckage, but this instance has been the scariest. The few hours she was separated from him whilst he was transported to hospital and then was in surgery seemed like days, she even originally refused medical treatment for herself until Cho calmly persuaded her that she needed it.

Lisbon is now wearing clean clothes consisting of grey sweatpants and an FBI hoodie, with a bandage wrapped around her head hiding several stitches underneath from where she was clubbed with the handle of a gun during her kidnapping. Her wrists and ankles have been treated; she was even given strong pain relief to stop them from stinging so badly. She will recover and more importantly to her, he will too.

It is morning when he eventually starts to stir. His breath hitches as his eyes flutter open, the bright light of his private room is harsh on his vision and makes him groan - but that could also be because of the ache to his abdomen. "Jane." He hears and he's immediately smiling. Unless he has reached the heaven that he doubts exists, her voice means that she is okay and alive. Even in the slob clothes with the bandage accessorising her hair and black bags lining her eyes she looks beautiful. If this is heaven, then she is his guardian angel but the mixture of relief and concern washing over her features tells him that he has managed to cheat death once again. "Welcome back."

"Hey." He croaks whilst obviously still feeling the full effects of the anaesthetic and powerful pain relief if his dazed expression is anything to go by. "What happened?" The question comes before the furrowing of his brow, almost like his body is lagging behind his mind's conscious thoughts.

"Grady shot you." There's a tremor in her tone when she states this and there is nothing that he wants to do more than to leap out of bed and engulf her in a hug, but he knows this isn't possible right now. "Abbott shot him before anything else could happen but… It was touch and go for a while but they managed to stabilise you. They had to operate but you're going to be okay."

"I'm going to have a scar." He realises and for some reason it makes him smile, as if he is finally becoming a bad boy fit for an angry princess.

His reaction is baffling to her. "You are also without a spleen."

"Meh. Who needs it?" Jane shrugs, his focus now shifting to her own injuries. "How's the head?"

"A little sore but I'm okay."

"And your wrists? And your-"

"Jane. I'm fine." She leans forward to take hold of his hand and he spots the soreness from the rope burn but the action of her holding his hand makes him unable to worry. "We are both fine."

Her statement seems heavy with something and not just expected relief. There was something in the way she stressed "both" that makes his heart flutter – although thankfully in a figurative sense.

He remembers what his plans were before all hell broke loose. A freshly cooked dinner, wine, and him finally plucking up the courage to say what needs to be said for a future which hopefully involves them together. The realisation dawning on him in the middle of the grocery store and how he finished his shop with a skip in his step is unforgettable. "You know, I had bought you strawberries and beer and those cheese chips you like." He recalls. "And then I got back to the house, and you were gone, it was..." He's shaking his head, not wanting to contemplate what happened and how close he was to losing someone else he loves. "I thought that maybe I had missed the chance to tell you how I feel."

"Feel?" He does sense her flinch slightly, most likely out of shock because they've known each other well over a decade and they've always avoided discussing anything regarding personal emotions. "About what?" But he is done with shying away. Life, as they are both very much aware, is too short.

"About you, Teresa." Jane gives her hand a quick squeeze for good measure, and he does note the perplexed but cautiously optimistic expression on her face. "When I was isolating myself in Venezuela, I often wondered what might have been if I was still in the US as a free man but with Red John gone. I knew, know, we have a special bond that has blossomed over time, but I cannot help but think about the potential next steps of our relationship." He takes a deep breath causing pain to flair in his abdomen, but he is not going to let that bother him. Not now, not in this moment. "This mission just proved something to myself that I already knew but was hiding from." She's subconsciously leaning forward and the smallest change in her posture gives him the final push of courage that he needs. "I care about you, a lot, more than I ever thought was possible. When they took you, it was for less than twelve hours but it felt like days. I have never known time to move so slowly and the agony I felt from your absence as I worried about you is something I hope to not experience again."

An unintentional emotive cry escapes her as she is overcome with sentiment. Her hand flies to her mouth in embarrassment but that just makes him lightly chuckle with the smallest shake of his head. "I want to be by your side, always, not just at work but at home too." He passionately continues. "Pretending to be a couple was easy because I believe it is how it is meant to be, in my head at least." Lisbon drags her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to keep her emotions in check. "If you don't feel the same then that's okay but... I think you have a right to know that I love you, Teresa."

"You do?" She chokes on her words but that simply makes his heart swell further.

"Of course I do." He says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"I-I feel the same." She blushes. The pink of her cheeks contrasting to the greens of her eyes that have glossed over with unshed tears.

"That's lucky." He beams with euphoria combating the high he is experiencing from the painkiller in his drip. "I would get up and kiss you, but I think you may have to come to me."

"No change there then." She teases and for a moment he thinks that she isn't going to, that she is going to leave him hanging, and his face starts to fall.

The brunette almost laughs at the sight but instead settles on rolling her eyes before she starts to get up from the chair her heart pounding in her chest and she muses that the beeps of his heartrate monitor have also quickened.

In the movies when people kiss it is likened to fireworks going off, explosive, but that is never something Lisbon has experienced during a kiss. Those scenes would make her derisively scoff and she would be tempted to stop watching but now she gets it. With a hand resting on his stubbly cheek and the other on his chest, it feels right to have her lips on his and his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her closer. It isn't weird, it isn't strange because of their long friendship, it is right.

They definitely get a little carried away and her weight shifts more towards him, forcing the hand on his chest to slide down lower making him hiss in pain – it is the first time they pause for breath. "I'm sorry!" She quickly apologises, trying to take a step back as if she shouldn't touch him at all but he is swift to stop her by putting his hands on her upper arms. She needs to remember that he's fragile. He was shot barely nine hours ago and had surgery; this isn't the time to become overly amorous.

"Don't apologise." His fingers carefully tuck a stray hair behind her ear before he lets his hand sweep down her cheek, leaving it there. "We may have to postpone any strenuous activity until we've both recovered."

"What's a couple more weeks?" She shrugs and he knows what she means. She has been waiting for this moment just as much as him. It may be difficult for a short period, being careful with one and other but time will eventually pass. They have the time for fun, lots of time.

Together.