Shout-outs: I Dream of Scotty, Jade, Jane Doe51, Chymom, Guest, Mayzee Sssssy, and LouiseKurylo

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 9

"Aren't they gorgeous?" Mrs. Smith cooed as she picked up one of Myrna Loy's puppies and placed him in Teresa's lap. "This one is all yours, if you'd like."

Teresa nodded, scratching the puppy she was holding behind his ears. "I would love to take one of the puppies," she answered.

"Good, now that we have that settled, how is Patrick?" Mrs. Smith asked, sitting down next to her.

"I haven't seen him since I took him to the drive-through a couple of days ago. He's busy with a case."

"The Red John one? I saw something about it on the news last night." Mrs. Smith shook her head. "What a horrible man, I hope they find him and string him up by his toes. Disgusting, the things he does to those girls."

"Yes," Teresa agreed, sighing deeply. "How's Frank?"

"Frank is doing well, thank you for asking. We're going out tonight, Tony Bennett is giving a concert in LA and we have front row seats."

Teresa smiled. "Ah, I thought there was something different about the record you were playing today. It isn't Perry Como."

Mrs. Smith smiled in return. "No. You should call Patrick; see how things are going with him. I can tell that your mind isn't here today. It's with him, wherever he is."

Teresa blushed. "A little bit."

Mrs. Smith nodded knowingly. "It's fine darling, I know how you feel about him. It's only natural that you're thinking about him right now, that you're worried about him. Don't you dare protest; it's perfectly natural to be worried about the man you love. Especially when he's working in law enforcement. Now come on, you can help me get ready for my date this evening."

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Patrick had a headache. All the clues had led to another dead end, it didn't seem like they were going to catch him this time around either. He would go free, able to kill again when the mood struck. He was almost sure of it. It scared him; he didn't think he could face another blonde teenager, dead way before her time.

"Here you go," Van Pelt said, breaking into his thoughts with a bottle of water, tea and two aspirin. "You have a headache, you need some painkillers."

Patrick smiled at her despite the welling pain in his temples. "Thanks."

"I've been praying every day that we'll catch him, but I think I was wrong. We're not going to catch him this time. Are we?"

"Don't give up hope," Patrick answered, tossing the aspirin in his mouth and unscrewing the cap off the bottle of water. He downed half of it and sighed. "There's still a little time before we have to shelve it. Keep praying, I'll enlist some reinforcements."

"I didn't think you believed in praying," Van Pelt said, looking a little surprised.

"I don't, but it helps you and that's the only thing that's important," Patrick replied. "Now go on, the work day is almost over. You should go home and get some rest."

"You too," Van Pelt said. "You're not going to be any good to us if you're not well-rested."

"I'll be fine," Patrick tried to assure her but his mind was with Teresa, it had been a couple days since he'd seen her and he missed her more than he cared to admit. She would bring some balance to this craziness going on. He sighed. "You know what; maybe I will get out of here for a little bit too."

"Good," Van Pelt answered. "I'll see you later."

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He went to Teresa's apartment, but she didn't answer her door when he knocked. He felt a slight sense of panic rise up in his chest as all the possibilities of what could have happened raced through his mind. Relief came when he heard her laughter from three doors down. He followed the sound of her voice and found her standing with an elegantly dressed older couple, a puppy in her arms.

"There you are!" He said walking towards her and stopping short when he was just close enough to touch her.

"Patrick!" She exclaimed her face lighting up at the sight of him.

His heart gave a great thump and he felt a million pounds lighter than before. "Teresa. Teresa. There you are. . . I was worried. . ."

She smiled. "There's nothing to worry about, I'm right here. These are my friends, Mrs. Smith and her boyfriend, Frank. They were just about to leave for a Tony Bennett concert."

Mrs. Smith smiled at him. "I've heard so much about you Patrick. It's so nice to finally meet you. But like Teresa said, we really must be going. Maybe we can all get together for dinner sometime soon."

"We'll plan for it," Teresa answered, smiling at her friend. "You two have a good time tonight. Behave yourselves!"

"You too dearest one," Mrs. Smith replied, taking Frank's hand.

"So, who's this little guy?" Patrick asked when they were alone.

"This is Asta," Teresa told him.

"After Nick and Nora Charles's dog in the Thin Man movies?"

"Exactly!" Teresa said. "Do you want to hold him?"

"I'd love that," Patrick answered, taking him from her.

"Do you want dinner?" Teresa asked as they walked back to her apartment. "I'm not really in a position to leave my apartment until I can set it up for a dog. But I can cook for you; I have stuff for Mexican food."

"I'd like that, I've been living on pizza and Chinese food for the last few days," Patrick answered.

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"How are things going with the case?" Teresa asked as she marinated chicken in lime, honey and freshly shredded garlic.

"They're not," Patrick answered, shaking his head. "He's really good, he might outlive us all."

"That's a scary thought."

Patrick sighed. "I need you to do something for me. . ."

Teresa looked at him. "Anything."

"Pray. There's this girl that I work with and I'm afraid this case is going to wreck her, I'm afraid that chasing Red John is going to wreck her. She had so much faith going into this one and I looked at her today and I saw it fading. She'll lose herself if we don't catch him this time."

"I'll pray," Teresa promised, brushing her grill pan with olive oil and placing the chicken strips on it.

A little while later, they were sitting at her table and eating dinner. They were lingering over the last of the sour cream and tortilla chips when his cell phone rang; he glanced at the caller ID and answered it after the second ring when he saw Bosco was calling him.

"Hello Bosco," he said. "What? I can't understand what you're saying. I'll be right there, okay?"

"Is everything okay?" Teresa asked anxiously.

"Bosco. . . I need to go check on him, he's probably still at the office," Patrick answered, getting up and grabbing his suit coat. "He wasn't making any sense at all."

"Well, I'll go with you. . . just in case you need help," Teresa said, getting her purse and scooping up Asta.

She followed him outside and didn't object when he started the car up and broke every speed limit to get to the CBI.

"Do you think there's something wrong?" Teresa asked as he double-parked and ripped out of the car, she ran after him.

"Yes!" Patrick answered. "Bosco's usually the first one to leave; he likes to be home with Mandee and the kids. There has to be something wrong, he wouldn't have called me from the CBI. . . not unless he had a lead in the case or there was something wrong, and as of this afternoon we had no leads in the case."

Teresa looked as sick as he felt. "You don't think. . ."

"Yes," Patrick replied. "Yes, I do."

"Oh God." She breathed.

He flung the doors to the stairwell open and took them three at a time, while she tried to keep up with him. They reached the floor the Serious Crimes Unit was on and he rushed to Bosco's office as fast as he could. "Call 911!" he called over his shoulder, frantically.

She came to the office and saw Patrick kneeling over Bosco's bloody body. She rushed to Bosco's desk and picked up the phone that was already off the hook, after pressing the reset button, she dialed 911 like he had requested, she rattled off the address and their emergency while Patrick tried to stave off the blood.

"Who did this to you?" He demanded. "Who did this to you Sam!?"

"Rebecca," Sam gurgled, struggling for breath. "Rebecca. . . she said it was because Red John told her to do it. . . I don't know where she is right now. She left after she shot me."

"You're going to be okay," Patrick told him. "You're going to be okay, you have to be. Think about Mandee. . . Mandee needs you Sam."

"Mandee," Bosco repeated, opening his eyes. "She needs me."

"Call Mandee!" Patrick said. "Tell her to meet us at the hospital."

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The rest of the night went by in a blur; Teresa took Mandee's car and went to stay with their kids while she waited for news about her husband at the hospital.

She calmed their fears and they fell asleep on the couch, watching the Disney Channel while she waited for somebody to call her about Bosco's condition. The call never came; instead there was a knock on the door and Patrick standing on the concrete porch. She opened the door expecting the worse.

Patrick was covered in Bosco's blood and Mandee's tears and mascara, and he looked exhausted. She waited with anxiously bated breath for the news that he was dead, but he didn't say anything. He expelled a deep breath and fell into her arms, spent from all the emotions of the day.

"It's okay," Teresa whispered, finding her voice, finding his curls with her fingers. "Everything's going to be okay. I'm right here. . . I'm right here Patrick."

"Just hold me," he whispered back. "Please just hold me. I need to feel real again."

She nodded, pulling him closer, letting him nuzzle her hair with his nose, not saying anything when he started to trail little kisses up her neck or when he found her mouth and kissed her like he was a dying man. Something told her that if they weren't careful, things would escalate quickly between them and even though she could hardly think with his Earl Grey kisses, she knew that she didn't want to give herself to him in the Bosco's entryway. It would be too quick, not special enough if it happened that way.

She eased herself away with him, not taking her arms away from him because she was a little shaky and she wanted him to know that she was still there for him like he had wanted.

"Is he okay?" Teresa asked, her pulse still racing from the kiss they had shared.

"He's going to make it," Patrick answered. "He just got out of surgery a little bit ago and they said that he's going to make it, the recovery process is going to take a while though. He might never get to go back to police work. Hightower, Rigsby and Van Pelt are out looking for Rebecca right now. But I don't want them to find her; I know what will happen when they do. We'll bring her in for questioning and she won't tell us one thing. When we try and put her in jail, she'll just kill herself. They all do, they would rather die than betray him."

"Shhhh," Teresa said, framing his cheeks with her hands and kissing him all over his face, to comfort him. "Shhhh, it's going to be okay Patrick, everything's going to be okay. You're going to find him. You're going to find him soon and he'll be sorry he ever messed with any of you."

"When I find him, when I've seen him punished for everything he's ever done I am going to leave Sacramento, Teresa. I can't stay anymore. I can't see anybody else I care about get hurt. I don't want to chase monsters anymore, a few more years doing this and I don't think I'll know who I am anymore."

Teresa nodded, knowing there was more to it. That Angela was somewhere in the back of his mind but he was too respectful to what had just happened to bring it up. "I know."

"But I've found. . ." Patrick trailed off and swallowed hard, looking at her like he couldn't bear to lose her. "I've found that I don't want to let you go either, that I do not want to leave you behind. I want to ask you if you'd come with me but I don't know how."

"You just did," Teresa whispered. "Are you ready to talk about it?"

Patrick shook his head. "I don't know. Not yet, ask me again when we've taken care of Red John. I think I might be able to answer you then."

Teresa nodded. "I'll be waiting. Now, how about some tea? I'm sure Mandee won't mind if I make you some."

"I should go home and get cleaned up," Patrick answered, looking down at his blood-stained shirt, touching the black streaks on his shoulder.

"I'm sure Sam has a sweatshirt lying around here somewhere," Teresa said, nudging him slightly. "I don't want you to be by yourself tonight. Stay."

It was all the convincing he needed, he let her go and followed her into the kitchen, let her make him a cup of tea and stayed with her for the rest of the night, just holding her hand and letting her comfort him.

There were still nightmares to face. There was still a serial killer to catch but with her by his side, he knew that he would be able to face anything. And for a little bit, she chased the darkness away.

For a little bit, he was able to believe that everything was going to be okay.

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I had a blast writing it, especially the end. So, I hope you'll tell me what you think. And is anybody else on cloud 9 after Wednesday's finale? I could not have asked for more where this finale was concerned, I am so happy these two people I love like my family are happy.

Anyways, there are only three more chapters left until I close this story. But no worries, I am cooking up a new story for all of you. I just have four ideas to choose from and I don't know exactly which one I want to write first.

Until Next Time!

Love,

Holly, 2/20/2015_