Shout-Outs: MartyMc, Jade, Guest, LouiseKurylo, Jane Doe51, and Guest

Author's Note:

We had a snow day today, we have actual snow on the ground and I promised yesterday on Twitter that if there were a snow day where I live then I would post chapter 8. So, here we are.

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

.

Chapter 8

"How would you like to go and see the Marriage of Figaro?" Patrick suggested a week later. "I got tickets for tomorrow night's show."

"I don't know. . ." Teresa hedged. "The last time we went to the opera it didn't go so well."

"All the more reason to go," Patrick answered. "You need to give it a second chance, I got tickets for a theater a couple of hours away from Sacramento so there is no way that we will run into anybody that I know."

Teresa stirred her strawberry-lemonade with her straw thoughtfully. "Well. . . I guess it could be okay," she finally said.

"Great! So, I'll pick you up around three. We'll get there around five, don't get dressed though. I used to do shows at a hotel there and they said we could use a couple of the rooms to get ready in. The opera isn't until eight, so we'll have a few hours to eat afterwards. I already made reservations for dinner too."

"How did you know I would even say yes?"

"I could just tell you'd say yes," Patrick answered. "I got to go, my lunch hour is up. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," Teresa replied. "Have a good rest of your day."

"You too!" Patrick said, getting his wallet out to pay for their lunches.

.

"It took me a while to convince Hightower to give me the rest of the day off," Patrick said as they drove along the highway the next day. "That is until I told her that I was going out with you. She let me go right away as long as I promised to be back into work first thing tomorrow morning."

Teresa laughed. "I can't believe she gave you the rest of the afternoon off because of me."

"Don't underestimate your power over the way their thinking," Patrick replied.

"Well, as long as you don't use me as an excuse every time you want to get out of working."

"I swear this is the first time I have tried to get out of work since we've met," Patrick assured her. "But it wouldn't matter if it was my tenth or eleventh time, they'd still give me the time off if I were going with you."

Teresa wondered about his statement but didn't ask him to explain what he meant. She didn't want to hear the reason why they would give him the time off so easily. "Do you mind if I put some music on?" she asked instead.

"Sure," Patrick answered. "Put on whatever you feel like listening to."

She fiddled around with the radio station until she found one where they could sing along to almost every song that the DJ played. Singing old Carpentersand Bob Dylan songs was so much easier than having to think about what he had meant by his boss letting him off work because of her.

Certain songs brought up old stories that they traded like secrets at a sleepover. It gave them both insight into the people they were before they had met, the little kids with skinned knees and pipe dreams and wads of Double Bubble tucked between their teeth and cheeks. She could see him clearly sitting beside her, the little boy that he used to be. It made the small sparks of love she was feeling for him to be fanned and turn into little flames.

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the slow burning attraction towards him.

They made it to the hotel in record time and separated to go get ready in two different hotel rooms. When they were finished, they met again in the hotel lobby. He looked her over, taking in the strapless red dress that fell to her knees and matching shoes, he smiled.

"You look lovely," Patrick told her, his breath slightly catching in his throat.

"Thank you," Teresa replied, returning his smile with a wide grin of her own. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"We should go," he said after a beat. "I made reservations for the nicest restaurant in town; it would be a shame to miss them."

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to lure me into your bed," Teresa teased, slightly surprised by her own boldness.

"Don't worry, I would never seduce you over a meal," Patrick returned, offering her his hand. "That would be too sophomoric."

Teresa pursed her subtle red painted lips together and didn't point out that he had said he wouldn't seduce her at all. There was already enough fuel on the flames, she didn't need to encourage him anymore or add to her daydreams of them together. So, she was quiet as he led her outside to the front entrance of the hotel where a limo was waiting for them.

"Are you sure you aren't trying to seduce me?" Teresa asked coyly.

"If I were going to seduce you, you wouldn't know it until after it had happened," Patrick answered. "I am just giving you a taste of my life before the CBI. Although, I am sure there are a number of limos and living the highlife in your life at this moment."

"You know that I am a simple girl with simple tastes," Teresa replied as she slid into the limo.

"You can take the girl out of Chicago, but you can't take Chicago out of the girl?" Patrick asked as he followed her.

"Something like that," Teresa said as their driver for the night closed the door behind them. "But I do find that I enjoy some of the finer things in life, like a night at the opera and a pretty dress. I just prefer deep dish pizza to escargot."

"Who doesn't?" Patrick quipped. "I promise my dear, there will be no escargot tonight just steak and a baked potato."

"If it's the most expensive place to eat in town, it better be one good piece of steak!" Teresa answered, laughing a little bit.

"I've eaten there plenty of times before, I can assure you that it's the best steak you will ever experience. They even tell you the name of the cow the steak comes from."

"Okay, that might just be a tad bit of too much information," Teresa told him. "I prefer to not think about my food's life before I got it."

"I can request that they don't tell you then," Patrick replied.

"Please," she said, smiling at him.

.

Patrick was right; the Marriage of Figaro was a much more pleasant experience than Turandot had been. Patrick was right, there weren't any meddling "friends" during the intermission and she found without the distraction of thinking she was going to lose him, she could enjoy the opera the way it was supposed to be enjoyed.

When it was over, they were brought back to the hotel where they got back into street clothes and got ready for the trip back to Sacramento even though it was late.

He dropped her off at her apartment in the wee small hours of the morning and she thanked him for the wonderful time that he had given her. He walked her to her apartment door, making sure that she got in safely before leaving her for the night. There was no kisses goodnight or asking if he would stay, but she was sure that maybe one day there would be.

So, Teresa let him go, watching him leave her with a tiny ache in her heart. She hated seeing him go off by himself, she hated that he wouldn't let her love him. Even though she didn't want to be a rebound, she wanted him to want her the same way she wanted him. She wanted forever.

If she was going to get forever, she knew waiting for the right time would be no chore. With that thought, she locked up for the night and got ready for bed just to catch only a few hours of sleep.

.

A week later, Patrick was staring at another dead body with the Red John smiley face on the wall above it. Another blonde, another teenager. Their life cut short way too soon.

"Can you believe he would be this cocky to kill so soon after the last one?" Van Pelt asked. "I think we're closer to finding him this time Jane. I really do."

Patrick looked at the young girl and tried to smile. "I hope you're right."

"I have a good feeling," Van Pelt said.

Patrick had a feeling too, but it was far from a good one. Even if they did catch him this time, he wouldn't go down without a fight. Without taking a few casualties with him, he fleetingly wanted to stop his pursuit of the serial killer, put another team on it and keep the people he cared about safe.

But he knew that Bosco and Hightower wouldn't hear of it, they had been pursuing Red John for too long to throw in the towel when it looked like they were so close to catching him. He sighed and turned away from the corpse, feeling slightly nauseous.

They were too close this time, this murder, so close to the other one was a not so subtle message to the Serious Crimes Unit. Maybe he was going to let them catch him, but there would be hell to pay because of it.

He ran away before Bosco could come and find him to ask him what he thought about the crime scene, the victim. It was Red John, not a copycat and she had been killed in the same way the rest of them had been killed. This time there was the added bonus of a bloody pedicure on her perfectly formed toes, he could see a cheery glittery blue nail polish peeking through the drying red, reminding him of how much this young lady was going to miss out in life.

His stomach heaved and for the first time since he had worked his first crime scene, he found some bushes to throw up in. Chasing Red John was becoming to be too much; he couldn't wait for it to finally be over.

.

At the end of the work day, Teresa was waiting for him outside the CBI building. She was starting to anticipate his needs even before he knew he would need something. She opened her arms up to him and he stepped into her embrace.

"Sam told me that it was a bad day," she said. "So, I came to take you to the drive-in. We can pretend we're two high schoolers without a care in the world and indulge in French fries and Coke milkshakes."

Patrick pulled away and released a deep breath. "I'd like that."

He could tell that she knew distractions wouldn't help him that much, but he was thankful she was trying.

He was beginning to think that he couldn't live without her. And it scared him, because when he left Sacramento for good, he didn't want to leave with strings that would pull him back to the state capital.

But looking at the beautiful brunette in the seat beside him, her hair in two French braids and looking like she stepped out of a hiking catalog, he knew it was too late. There were some massively strong strings already. And no matter what happened, he wouldn't be able to leave her but he couldn't stay either.

Patrick had a thought, a huge scary thought that he wasn't able to face completely while he was still wearing Angela's wedding ring and while Red John was still looming in the shadows. But it was enough to put a pin in for another day, when he was a little stronger to face it and think about the implications of what the thought meant.

In the meantime, he would still pretend they were still just friends and that he hadn't started to feel his heart spark every single time that he looked at her or when she looked at him with the glimmer of the same feelings in her brilliant green eyes. He would pretend that all his father's favorite old songs didn't suddenly make sense whenever he was looking at her.

And he wouldn't let her know anything had changed. Not until he was sure he could.

TBC. . .

.

Author's Note II:

I hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter, we're getting closer to a conclusion. Only four more chapters, I think. Unless Chapter 12 demands I follow up with 13, which I doubt will happen because it is pretty much all wrapped up and Chapter 12 is dealing with loose ends. Anyways, tell me what you thought! I am looking forward to your thoughts about this chapter.

Love,

Holly, 2/16/2015_