Once the ice was broken, so to speak, the boots became less of a presence in their lives. Teresa considered the boots to be a delightful little secret she and Patrick shared, and was savvy enough in matters of both ego and the heart to not tease him about them too often. So, for the first few weeks after the boots were broken in, there had been little activity in that department.

She actually found Patrick's boot fetish to be quite advantageous. Not only did she now have a source of footwear conveniently reposing underneath Patrick's bed, she had a surefire way of stoking Patrick's fire should it ever need...stoking.

She and Patrick were finally taking the Airstream up for a weekend in the Texas Hill Country, and in spite of the Airstream, Teresa was beside herself with excitement. A lakeside weekend with Patrick, all alone, was just what they both needed.

As they approached the campsite area, a downpour was baptizing the Airstream. They were silent as Patrick slowly maneuvered through the thunderstorm; he could barely see the unpaved road through the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. But once they were settled and had eaten, they snuggled under a blanket, listening to the rain pound on the Airstream.

"Stop thinking...Shh..." Patrick advised, as he stroked her body underneath the blanket. "Slow down. Relax. It's just us, no clocks, nothing to do..."

In return, Teresa shifted her weight, reached under the blanket as well, and ran her fingertips gently down his length, then left him feeling bereft as she moved to his thigh.

"Don't stop," he requested.

Teresa smiled, her fingers returning to stroke him. He sprang to life under her hand, as the rain pounded even harder onto the Airstream's roof.

"You know," he murmured, "out here, no one can hear...a thing...and with the rain..."

He moved down between her legs and, before she knew it, she proved him right.

"Teresa," he whispered after her heart had slowed to a more normal rate, "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

She reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair, before wickedly saying, "And you'd better remember that forever."

The rain continued coming down.

He settled his body over hers, and she reached out to guide him to her, as he gently slid inside her. The rain softened to a pitter-patter, and as they made love, all she could hear was the rain, and Patrick occasionally exhaling her name in rhythm with the rain.

Afterward, they lay together, wrapped in the blanket; Patrick's breathing finally slowing while she stroked his hair. The rain had stopped.

"You're beautiful, and so good," he whispered. Patrick took her hand and kissed her fingertips, one by one, punctuating each kiss with a syllable. "I am so lucky."

"Oh, I don't know, I think we both are." Teresa trembled as he took her other hand, and slowly kissed each fingertip.

The next morning was bright and sunny, and Patrick woke to actually find that Teresa was already up and out of bed. Opening the door, he saw her standing under the awning.

Teresa turned to grin at him. "'Morning," she smirked, as she watched his eyes move up and down her body, from the skimpy sky-blue bikini to the boots.

It was going to be a great day to be Patrick Jane.

Epilogue, A Few Months Later

"Thank you, Agent Fisher. We were following up on the Art Crimes cases. This is a big help-it appears to be a nationwide ring." He poked his head out into the bullpen. "Jane? Lisbon? My office."

Jane and Lisbon took their place in Abbott's office. The official surroundings, symbolic of the hold the FBI had over him, and the presence of Agent Fisher and Abbott's superiors made Jane nervous.

"Look, Abbott, we're having a busy morning..." Jane tried to stall.

Lisbon whispered, "Nice try." Then: "Let's sit," she recommended, and guided Jane to the seat they seemed to often share.

"We're sure this case is closed?" Abbott continued.

"Sir, we don't expect to find any more...situations...that will require us to go undercover in the gallery district...for now," Lisbon reported.

"Jane, do you agree?" Fisher asked.

"Yes. I trust Agent Lisbon's instincts here. Definitely. We don't feel Austin will be a problem."

Kim Fisher passed in front of them, and gave the agent and her consultant a long stare before giving in with a sigh. "Alright. But mark my words, if they resurface either her or in Dallas, we'll..."

Lisbon looked over at Jane. He had suddenly turned pale and stiffened, his hands on his knees.

The look Lisbon gave him screamed: "Are you OK?"

Jane continued staring ahead.

Lisbon was worried. Jane was acting like...well, like not Jane.

"Here, let me leave the file with you..." Fisher advised.

Jane now had moved one hand to Lisbon's knee, gripping onto it for dear life, not caring about who saw the gesture.

Lisbon looked over at Fisher, and then blanched, even as Jane's grip tightened even more.

Agent Kim Fischer was wearing spike-heeled black leather boots.